


In Your Reality

by MorbidDramaMaker



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Age Difference, College, Drama, Dream Sequence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Fluff and Smut, Hallucinations, Humor, Light Angst, Magic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, New Adult, POV Third Person Limited, Romance, Sarah POV, arguably public sex, attempts at friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidDramaMaker/pseuds/MorbidDramaMaker
Summary: When the Goblin King starts showing up in every aspect of Sarah's life, she's forced to find a solution to these unwanted meetings while balancing the final semester of her college career. Finals, term papers, and fae monarchs, as it turns out, do not mix.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 19
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**-XXX-**

Seeing is believing. Or, at least, that's the philosophy Sarah's agnostic granny had always prescribed to. She had attempted to firmly instill this belief in a young and impressionable Sarah. But it had failed to land upon its mark, leaving the girl to her fantasies and fairy tales. But the elder Williams woman's philosophy was not entirely in vain. Somehow it had seeped through the stubbornness, laying in wait to pounce upon her adult years. Sarah Williams had possessed no trouble in believing in things unseen. This imagination was fed through a steady diet of fantasy novels and Disney movies.

But then she grew up – as people are wont to do – and suddenly seeing was how she built faith in the world around her. Education and adult-iness meant that she was firmly planted in reality. Or, at least, that's what Sarah hoped of herself. She'd had more than her fair measure of fantasy and it had not turned out to her liking.

And in this particular case, seeing meant nothing particularly good.

She blinked, rather dazed, across the table of summer squash she'd been examining. The figured winked rakishly. She set the vegetable down, taking one step forward, fully intent on confronting this person – thing – vision. The impish smile broadened to see her approach, the full mouth curving upwards as he tilted his head, challenging.

Sarah stumbled forward, mouth already open, ready to call out. A couple – one of those yuppie sorts that brought their entitled little Yorkies to farmer's markets – walked in her line of vision, blocking the view. By the time they'd passed, he was gone.

In the background, the Amish farmer was howling for Sarah to return the squash she'd failed to pay for.

**-XXX-**

They didn't really seem like hallucinations. Sure no one else seemed to see him. And they're quite unanticipated, occurring when she least expected it, when he and his blasted labyrinth is the furthest thing from her mind. Besides, he was so real, so authentic she wondered if perhaps he really was there.

But that's sort of the whole point of hallucinations, isn't it? To trick people into thinking what they saw was true and present.

Over the course of the month she saw him once at the farmer's market, twice lingering around the student union near the Panda Express, in the bus terminal, lounging on a boulder in the park, and perhaps in a lecture, she'd attended on Ahtna mythology. The room had been rather crowded, however, and she'd only caught a glimpse.

For the first few weeks, it frustrates her until she decides to just ignore it. Trying to talk to him would only serve to drive her more mad. If she acknowledged him, then he – and the problem – would be just a little more real.

So, she passed him in the grocery store without even a passing glance. Sarah opted to focus on the wine selection as he stood impatiently beside the display of Lay's, mildly irritated expression furrowing his kingly brow.

When he turned up at her laundry mat, she put all of her attention into measuring detergent. After he was spotted in the library, walking idly between shelves, Sarah was resolved to shove her nose in the most book – which was nearly impossible, considering the book in question was hardly enthralling. Despite Organic Chemistry's cool name, she was finding it anything but.

**-XXX-**

Her frequent and unexplained appearance was truly the least of his problems at the moment – when trying to manage diplomatic relations with the dwarves and squash the potential of a second Chicken Riot, the random appearance of a silent Sarah had to inevitably slip to the bottom of his "things-to-be-concerned-about" list. Still, when he was alone with his thoughts, it troubled him.

In the midst of strategic meetings, while he surveyed the labyrinth, once even while he was in the bath, she simply seemed to slip in – a shade, often frowning or glaring. There was no malice in her expression; indeed, she often seemed as confused at the Goblin King. He would often gaze back, startled, waiting. But nothing ever _really_ happened.

That was perhaps the most bothersome factor in the whole ordeal. No words were exchanged, nothing more than glances, and even then Jareth did question whether she truly saw him.

One afternoon, when she appeared to linger, he summoned the dwarf she'd befriended on her journey through his kingdom. The tiny Hedgewart shuddered and shivered under the king's cool eye.

"I see nuthin, your highness!" he cried. "Nuthin', I swear it!"

It was true – the Hogwidge's buggy eyes passed over her without pause.

He had his theories – weariness being one of them. Fae do not rest often as a rule, but it had been several years since Jareth has a true sleep. There was a chance that this vision of Sarah was his mind's way of tormenting him into sleep. But even after taking a week off his duties to sleep (which was not terribly hard when one could simply stop time) he awoke to find her at his bedside, peering out the nearby window.

"Why are you here?" he asked tiredly, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes.

She didn't answer. But she never did.

**-XXX-**

"You need to go away," Sarah groused at the corner of her room where the Goblin King was perched in her floral hand-me-down armchair. She could see him from the mirror over her desk. Dressed in a velvet jacket, his waistcoat shined with golden thread, which was reflected in the glitter that rested high on his cheekbones. A snort escaped Sarah upon observing this. He didn't look up, too preoccupied examining his nails. Infuriated, she turned to face him.

"I have a final in the morning and I really need to study." Her voice sounded slightly whiny even to her. She winced. "I'm just a few percentage points away from a B in International Policy. I know you don't particularly care, and Lord knows if you can ever hear me, but please, please, please, for the love of all that is sparkly, _get out."_

His expression did not alter in the least. Sarah exhaled loudly and turned back to her class notes.

When she looked up fifteen minutes later, he was gone.

**-XXX-**

"- and therefore, your highness, we believe it is to the best advantage of your liege to consider a new method of exporting. We have seen, in the numbers, a new trend of highs and lows in the wheat market..."

He was bored out of his mind, eyes glazing as the minister monologued on. So far in the course of the morning, he'd already suffered through a troll blathering on about some inconsequential problem with pixies near the westernmost wall. Now the minister of trade had the floor, and no one was escaping his thirty-minute presentation. Jareth wondered vaguely if he might cast a glamour to illusion himself into a more alert state.

From the corner of his sightline, he caught a sudden rustle. Eyes flickering, he glanced towards the curtains on the tall windows. Sarah was gripping the damask, body facing the window, though she was half-turned towards him. Expression less-than-pleased, she rolled her eyes.

He had to concur.

**-XXX-**

The labyrinth pulsed in greeting as her caretaker pressed a hand into her wall. Jareth smiled, patting her fondly before getting down to business. Closing his eyes, he sought to speak with the labyrinth. She reached back, brushing is mind gently.

Willing images of the young champion forth, he showed her image after image of Sarah in his realm, her scornful, confused gaze, her silence. On top of this is pushed his own confusion, his own annoyance, and despair.

_"Have you done this to me?"_

There was a pause before the labyrinth caressed him.

_"No. It was not I."_

A sharp flash of anger runs through him. It has lain in wait for nearly two months, but now it all bubbles forth.

 _"Then_ who?" he seethed. _"Who seeks to torment me with these visions?"_

She brushes against his mind, soothing. The labyrinth knows not what or who has struck him so, but she seeks to ease his mind until he is forced to step away and wander back to the castle at the center of the maze.

**-XXX-**

The transition from finding her in public places to slowly infiltrating her more personal life was so gradual she didn't really notice. Three months from the day she first encountered the Goblin King at the market, she woke somewhere around four in the morning to find him again in her room. Sitting beneath the window, his hair glowed in the moonlight.

Sarah let out a sleepy sigh, pushing back the duvet to prop herself up on her elbows. "I do hope this isn't evidence of a trend."

But Jareth didn't hear – as was the norm. He stared straight ahead, fingers steepled. Occasionally his brow would furrow, as though some troubling thought had encroached upon his musings. Sarah, bemused, watched for a good long while before her weariness claimed her again and her eyes keep slipping shut leadenly.

"Don't do anything weird," she murmured as she turned away, snuggling deep into the covers. "Well, weirder than sitting in my room uninvited."

**-XXX-**

No manner of spells, potions, or seers will give him any notion as to how these visions came to be. Sarah, in all of her haughtiness, is driving him utterly mad in her frequent an unexplained appearance. He's taken to talking to her when she arrives, first asking questions and demanding answers. She took no notice of him, as usual. Eventually, his one-sided interrogation turned into merely a one-sided conversation.

"The delegation from Oberon's court is planning to extend their stay out the week," he grumbled to her while they sat in his study. Sarah was curled in an armchair with a book. She paid him no mind. "And they will no doubt clean out my wine cellars. His court drinks like there will be no morrow, I swear."

He could have sworn a small smile graced her lips. But it was probably a result of her reading materials.

**-XXX-**

"Have you thought about going up to see her for yourself, my liege?" The small fox tilted his head curiously.

The King kicked out his feet, thinking that the bridge he sat upon was rather rickety. Perhaps he ought to commission someone to replace it...

"I see not what that might alter," he said coldly, though there was no true annoyance in his words. Beside him Ambrosius set his head upon his knee, panting in the midday heat. Jareth uneasily patted the creature's furry head.

 _"However did a fox come to own a sheepdog?"_ he wondered.

The fox in question passed his king the bottle of blackberry wine they'd been sharing. Jareth polished it off, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his linen shirt.

"Go see her, you say?" Jareth said aloud. "I don't know what that would accomplish."

Didymus shrugged. "Who can ever say? But worth a try, I should think."

**-XXX-**

"You again," Sarah sighed, glancing briefly up from her book. She lounged on the sofa, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie worn from too many washing. Her toes wiggled absently as she turned back to the tome. "Have you come to stare forebodingly again? Or is it forlorn? I can hardly tell."

He blinked. Straighten. Then glowered. "Insolent girl."

She froze. Promptly, with a small scream, Sarah fell from the sofa. Once righted she jumped up, rushing at him to stop a mere foot away. "You can talk now?" she demanded, glaring up at him.

"What do you mean _now?_ I've always been gifted with the ability to speak," he sneered down at her.

"No, no, no." She pushed at his chest with one finger. "You've been sneaking up on me for a month, just staring without a word. Absolutely everywhere too, you prevent. I thought I was going mad!"

The Goblin King was aghast. "I've not seen you since you so cruelly turned me down, Miss Williams."

"Bullshit."

"Sarah," he warned. "I promise you, this is the first time I have made any effort to invade your life. You won – I leave my champions alone once they've chosen their path."

The phrase _"my champion"_ makes her uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as his denial of his intrusion into her life. At a temporary loss for words, Sarah crossed her arms, ducking her head. She could feel his breath, warm and ticklish on the top of her head. He was too close for her liking – but she had been the one to determine the distance, Sarah remembered, cursing herself.

"If you weren't here, then who was? I saw someone. Nearly every day for the last six months." Her voice softened. "I thought I was crazy. Having visions."

There is a pause before Jareth spoke. "It is indeed odd. Curiouser," he drawled. "That I had a similar experience myself."

"What?"

Despite the circumstances, he appeared pleased to have surprised her. But he soon grew serious. "As of late, I have often found my privacy intruded upon by yourself. You would appear, sometimes aware of my presence, other times uncaring. You never uttered a word."

"I've never left...here!" She gestured wildly. "I've not been Underground since I was fifteen. How could I have even brought myself?"

"I had the very same question."

"It's preposterous."

"No madder than the idea that I'd voluntarily spend time in the presences of the girl who bested me at the mere age of 15."

"If this has been happening to you for months," Sarah asked slowly. "Then why are you only now coming here? Surely you would've thought to visit long before now to see that I've not...I don't know, learned magic or become a witch or something."

He barely restrained a snort. "Magic is given, not learned. It was highly improbable that you were actually in my bedroom."

Sarah colored at this thought, but Jareth continued.

"I, unlike you, concluded that what I was seeing was little more than an illusion. I only sought to find who or what sending them to me."

"So this isn't some trick of yours?"

The king gave her a long-suffering look. "I am as much of a victim as you in this."

Sarah had to restrain herself from a very dramatic eye roll. Moving back to her sofa, she sank down with some weight, expression fiercely concentrated. The Goblin King followed suit, eyeing the somewhat scuffed armchair at her left before gracefully sweeping into it. Crossing his legs elegantly, he peered around the room with interest. There were a few mugs scattered on the IKEA coffee table, but the room was otherwise clean and bright. Based on the books and computer that shared the couch with her, Jareth guessed that she was in the midst of a type of academic study.

"Wait," Sarah said abruptly. "You said you haven't seen me since I defeated you."

The monarch stiffened. "Yes."

She raised a brow. "But that's not true. I know it's not true. I've seen you. Not you-you, but I've seen a barn owl at least once a month since then."

He visibly froze. Seconds passed as he calculated all possible responses and their subsequent damage. The air seemed to stop moving as Jareth regarded the girl before him for a moment before replying curtly, "What of it?"

Scoffing loudly she threw up her hands. "Please, Goblin King. I know I was rather distracted as a child but I was not _that_ distracted."

"Perhaps," he said delicately, "I may have checked upon you a few times. I was concerned, you see."

She crossed her arms. "Do elaborate?"

If it were under any other circumstances, Sarah might have been amused at the Goblin King's foul expression. He was rather cornered and he knew it.

With a heavy sigh, he summoned up a crystal, turning his wrist so that she may see the scene painted within. It was an image of her from three years ago – she was crossing the quad, shoulders hunched, a brand-new freshman in her first week of school. The younger Sarah was wearing a dark blue sundress and still had waist-length hair.

She remembered this day. She'd just gotten off the phone with her father in tears. Her Intro to Shakespeare instructor had been rather sharp with her when Sarah had answered a question incorrectly. It was the first time she'd really been struck with how this was not high school. Things were getting hard. She was struggling with her roommate, felt anxious every time she thought of eating alone in the dining hall and was still a little nervous to be in the library past 8 pm.

The picture shifted so that she could make out a cream-colored owl observing from above. As Sarah sank at the base of a tree, the owl hopped down a branch or two to edge close.

The Sarah in the present day sat back. "What is this? Are you stalking me?

Jareth scowled, flicking his hand so that the orb disappeared in a wink. "Hardly. I was concerned for you. Many under your circumstances have experienced difficulties adjusting to life once they'd experienced the Labyrinth. I felt ownership over your well-being, considering."

Skeptical, she shook her head. "You…checked up on me?"

"And up until recently, you'd been less-than-adjusted. It was only a few months ago that I felt as though you were truly settled."

In some ways, it was almost sweet. But mostly, his constant presence in her life was closer to the creepy end of the spectrum.

"Okay," Sarah said slowly. "So you've been visiting every so often. And you stopped do so…what, six months ago? And about six months ago we both started getting these vision thingies?"

"I suppose."

Mouth open, a new light of understanding shone in Sarah's eyes. "Oh. _Oh."_

Suspicious, he eyed her. "What?"

"Is it possible," she began. "That this is some kind of a – oh, I don't know, feedback loop? I don't know much about magic or whatever it you operate on, but we went over these in biology."

Picking up a notebook from her pile of study materials Sarah scribbled down a quick diagram. "You did something for a sustained period of time and suddenly stopped. Well, let's say your magic perhaps didn't know what to do with that. It's a cycle. You've established a sort of homeostasis and it was interrupted. Now, I don't know magic but I suspect based on my time in the Labyrinth parts of your magic are self-sustaining. Your magic was just trying to correct what it thought it was missing."

Jareth's eyes were bright. "You're suggesting that I was in such a pattern of seeing you that once I stopped my magic was, let's say, confused? And it attempted to rectify that confusion by draw in images of yourself?"

She nodded eagerly. "Maybe it was trying to nudge you to do it yourself but for the time being it's been showing you, I don't know, these broadcasts. But for whatever reason, I've been getting them too."

His knees brushed hers as he sat forward, picking up her hastily drawn diagram. Breath caught, Sarah put her hands in her lap. Five years had dimmed her brief memories of him. The illusion that had been a central feature in her life as of late had not been distant from the man (elf? fairy? goblin?) before her now. However, his physical presence carried with it something new entirely. Well, perhaps not new – the slight pull in her naval was familiar from her time in the Labyrinth. It was only a distant cousin to the feelings stirred by the few boys she'd encountered since starting undergraduate. Those had been ripples in a calm pond. This felt like someone had thrown a boulder into the otherwise zen-like pool.

Frowning, the Goblin King traced the images with one gloved finger. The sight caused Sarah to bite her lip unconsciously. When he glanced up and caught her eye she struggled to compose her expression.

"This is a theory," he said slowly. "But what shall we make of it? Magic is not like a computer program, I cannot code it to stop. It is much more organic. It might be trained…."

Sarah stared. "You know about coding?"

Jareth titled his head. "I'm hardly so removed from your world, Sarah, I'm familiar with the vernacular around modern technology."

"Sorry, it's just a little surprising."

"So what can be done?"

Sarah took back her notebook. "I hardly know. As you said, it's just a theory. You certainly have a better grasp on magic than me."

Jareth gave a heavy sigh, leaning into the armchair. "Well, then, I suppose our only way of combating it for the time being is to resume our visits."

She gaped. "I do not suppose that is the only way. Surely you can…I don't know, turn this off! Order it to stop!"

He gave her the sweetest smile. The tables had turned and Jareth was the one who was victorious. Perhaps it was that easy. Maybe he could find a simple off switch. But Sarah would never know.

"Dear Sarah," he said with a saccharine edge to his voice that made her both cringe and lean in. "I want only what is best for both of us. Have these illusion not been increasing in frequency as of late?"

He wasn't wrong. She'd seen him sulking about nearly every day in the last week. At this rate he'd been about constantly, with her own shade living full-time in the Underground. It was not an ideal situation.

"An experiment," he suggested. "Let us see if this assuages the powers that be for the time being. I'll return within the week and we'll go from there."

"I don't trust you," she told him bluntly.

"That's wise of you," he observed cheerfully. "I feel like you learned something worthwhile from your time in my Labyrinth, at the very least. Now, Sarah, I must be getting back."

She rose quickly as he stood, and he caught her wrist. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned in.

"That was frightfully clever, Sarah," he said softly. "See you next week."

When he evaporated with a small pop and puff of glitter she sank back into the couch, dazed. With any luck, it will have all just have turned out to be a dream.

**-XXX-**


	2. Chapter 2

**-XXX-**

A week later her suspicions about the whole thing being a midterms week fever dream were sadly proven wrong when Jareth appeared in her kitchen. Sarah had just opened a bottle of cheap celebratory wine and there was a pot boiling on the stove with the beginnings of Easy Mac. She groaned as he made himself at home at her small table, examining the wine bottle.

"This says it pairs well with pizza," he said, brows rising. "That does not bode well."

"You don't bode well," she murmured.

The Goblin King ignored her. "I've not seen you all week. In person or in illusion. Truth be told, I rather missed you."

"I cannot say the same."

He tsk'd. "Now now Sarah. Is that any way for a hostess to behave."

"Unwilling hostess," she pointed out. "Would it really be so much to ask for, I don't, a warning text? As courtesy?"

"Wouldn't be more convenient if we merely had a standing date?"

From the stove where she was stirring the beige-colored pasta, Sarah blinked. "What are you getting at, Goblin King? Is this your weird way of trying to court me?"

He bared his teeth. It might have been an attempt at a smile. "Your wit is shining as always, my dear."

She rolled her eyes, turning the heat down as she moved to take the pot off the stove and drain its contents over the sink. "Listen, I know you might not be able to grasp the gravity of this, but I'm in the last quarter semester of my senior year. I'm behind on grad school applications, I've got to start submitting back-up job applications, on top of my obligations to like, classes. I have three final projects that are eating me alive at the moment. I do not have time to do this song and dance with you every week. You see that wall calendar?" She nodded to the white board dominating the wall beside the kitchen door. "I've got every damn second of the day planned out on there."

Delicately, Jareth sipped from his wine glass. Sarah allowed the passing thought " _where did he get that?"_ cross through her mind before he began to speak.

"Do you think this timing is ideal for me?" He swirled his glass. "I have a delegation from the Dragon Isles next week, three trade agreements to negotiate, not to mention a court of hearings tomorrow with the general populous. Besides that, we're behind construction on the northernmost wall and I'm due for an inspection this month. I'm running a kingdom, my lady."

Choosing to ignore the phrase "Dragon Isles" and its implications, Sarah put her hands on her hips. "And I am getting my degree and trying to find my future career."

His lips twisted. "So we are both busy. But that being said, I propose for our own ease we make this a reoccurring event. Sunday evenings seem to be open to you." He nodded at her exceptionally full calendar.

Sarah sighed, turning back to her mac n' cheese. Buttering the noodles and pouring the milk, she considered her options. He was right. It would be easiest if they met on a regular basis on a regular day. But that would feel like some a victory for him.

"Fine. Sundays."

Jareth smiled broadly. "Perfect."

He stayed for dinner. Sarah grudgingly shared her mac and even made a salad for them to share. The Goblin King had impeccable table manners, even pulling the chair out for her before she sat to eat. It felt painfully awkward considering her attire of sweatpants and a hoodie with worn cuffs but Jareth was polite and choose to ignore the inelegance. He poured her a glass of wine and inquired about her final projects, even asking questions that proved that he'd been listening. She ventured to ask a few questions about his work. As it turned out the Dragon Isles were, in fact, sending dragon delegates and Jareth's cook was fretting over the menu – dragons, as it turned out, were frightfully picky eaters.

When it was time for him to depart, Jareth stood at the counter beside her as she washed her pot. He was corking her wine bottle when he caught her eye. Hands sudsy and being rather trapped, it was easy for the king to grasp her chin gently.

"I'll see you next week. And Sarah," he added. "Should I court you, there would be no doubts."

That left her rather speechless.

**-XXX-**

The next Sunday found her deep in the middle of an essay on agricultural practices of early indigenous people of the Mississippi when Jareth appeared. He took in the sight of her messy bun and pajamas and generously offered to summon dinner. Sarah, who was wary of Underground food after an incident with a certain peach, declined.

"I will let you buy me a pizza," she countered.

Two pizzas were delivered thirty minutes later. Pineapple and bacon for her. Feta and spinach with grilled chicken for the monarch.

"You can't tell me it wouldn't be a Persephone situation," she said around a bite of crust he when complained again that she wouldn't let him present her with food from the palace.

"Explain," he said sharply as he sprinkled hot pepper flakes on his plate of pizza. He was consuming his slices with a fork and knife. Naturally.

Sarah, crossed-legged on her bedroom floor with a paper plate on her lap, tilted her head. "You know about computer programming but not one of the most significant Greek myths?"

At his look, she swallowed and held up a hand. "Okay, okay. It's just, like, my favorite myth. But the story is pretty simple. Persephone is the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, and Zeus. You know who Zeus is? Okay. So she's sort of the goddess of spring. Bright and lovely and flowers everywhere. Hades, the god of the Underworld – the Underworld, not the dead per se, but where the dead hang out – saw her one day and falls in love. In some versions of the story, he asks his brother, Zeus if he can marry her. Either way, it's kind of ew because he's technically Persephone's uncle."

Jareth was clearly very focused on the story. He'd set his plate down and was watching her with great interest.

"Anyways, regardless of if he asks Zeus or not, he snatches Persephone. Some versions say he makes the ground open in the meadow she's hanging out in and comes out in his chariot and steals her away. He takes her to his home in the Underground. Meanwhile, her mother is so upset she cancels the harvest. It's cold and people starve. Zeus finally forces his brother to return Persephone. But before she goes back she eats 6 pomegranate seeds – the only thing she's eaten the whole time she was there, props to her – and subsequently must spend half the year with her new husband, Hades, and the other half with her mother."

His brow was furrowed. "Did she eat the seeds knowing the consequences?"

Sarah paused. "I've always wondered that too. Did she mean to come back to Hades? Or was it a mistake, was she tricked? I don't know. I'd like to think that maybe it wasn't something she was conned into. Like, maybe she knew what she was doing."

Jareth was very quiet for a moment. Sarah resumed eating her pizza, waiting for him to speak, scrolling through her phone. When he finally did it was with some level of hesitation.

"Sarah. I know that you have nothing in our history to support this, but I would not –" he paused, reconsidering his words. "I would not bring you anywhere unwillingly, unless it would be for your protection. It is not my desire to take away your autonomy. Before, when you were a child – there were rules. A precedent. I was trying to follow the plot, you might say."

It struck her suddenly that the story had perhaps hit a nerve. Sarah set her plate down, reaching across the floor to where Jareth sat awkwardly, his back against her box spring. She felt compelled to reassure him. Scooting closer, she matched his tone. Her hands found his. She internally winced realizing that she was getting his glove greasy with her pizza-fingers. He didn't seem to mind or even notice too stunned by her closeness.

"I was joking," she said. "Well, mostly joking. I won't say I completely trust you, Goblin King, but I don't exactly see you as the villain in my fairytale anymore."

"Jareth," he said suddenly, still looking a little dazed.

Sarah stopped. "What?"

"My name."

"Oh."

They gazed at each other for a long moment.

"I would like it if you would call me by my name, rather that my title."

"I can do that," she said with a confidence she didn't feel.

**-XXX-**

Despite the size of her Goblin King problem, it was not at the forefront of her mind. Finals were around the corner, and preparations for graduation were well underway. Besides term papers and final exams, Sarah had job applications to fill out, internships to apply to, grad schools to research. She was fairly certain that she wanted to take at least a year to figure out if she wanted to pursue her Master's. Besides, it was a lot of money and time. Not a decision to be made lightly. Sarah felt that her graduate degree had kept her busy enough to not have the time to truly consider her future. A year or two in the job force certainly couldn't hurt.

If this were not enough to occupy her, Karen was insisting upon a graduation party. It was a very sweet gesture, no doubt. But when her step-mother peppered her with questions about cake flavors, color swatches, and guest lists, Sarah wanted to scream. _"I don't know I don't know I don't know."_

It just so happened that one particular Sunday found her pacing a study room in the library, listening to Karen drone on as Sarah half-listened as she flipped through notecards. Her study group for American Romanticism had departed twenty minutes before and Sarah's delicate noises about "studying" and "school" work had failed to land with her step-mother who was still fretting over table cloths. Biting her lip, Sarah turned to do another lap of the tiny room when she nearly dropped the phone. She swallowed a shriek.

Jareth's chest was level with her nose and he was very, very close. Brows raised, he held up both hands in a _"don't shoot"_ gesture. Rolling her eyes Sarah pointed to the phone.

"You weren't home."

She gestured to the books and papers scattered throughout the room. _"Studying"_ she mouthed.

It was the Goblin King's turn to roll his eyes. The young woman shrugged and stepped around him, continuing her pacing, making non-committal listening noises into the phone.

**-XXX-**

A month passed with only the physical embodiment of the Goblin King visiting her, as scheduled, once a week. No more ghostly kings in her grocery store. Jareth reported the same from his end.

"This is not sustainable," she said on their fifth week. "We need to find a real solution."

"Oh, I don't mind." He was sitting with her on the patio of her favorite coffee shop. Today his hair was tame and pulled back in a sleek blonde ponytail at the nape of his neck. He'd dressed in a pair of faded maroon jeans and a grey t-shirt with the name and embalm of some Icelandic band on the front. He fit in nicely in the main drag of the college town, appearing vaguely cool and wonderfully aloof. When he flashed his eyes over the rims of his black aviators, her stomach flipped. "Should we need to do this for the rest of your life, I should think it would be a rather wonderful tradition."

Sarah peered at him over her iced americano. "While I am less opposed to your general presence than I was over a month ago, I cannot say I want this to be a reoccurring thing. At some point in time, I hope to have a boyfriend. Or, bare minimum, a roommate. Housing prices in the city are ridiculous."

"And what does that have to do with us?"

"It's going to be hard to explain to them why I have a standing date with the monarch of mythical creatures," she pointed out patiently.

Jareth sniffed.

"We need a solution."

"And what if we never find one?"

Desperately, Sarah shook her head. "There has to be something. I'm graduating in four weeks. If things go the way I think they are, I'll be moving in with my parents until I find a job or one of my waitlists open up. That would be even more awkward to explain. Besides, can you picture doing this for years? What if I get married? Or have a kid?"

"I could always go back to visiting from afar?" he offered.

"No," she replied firmly. "We're finding a solution."

Jareth frown, sitting back and dragging a long drink from his butterscotch latte. His posture suggested a sudden defensiveness that made Sarah guilty. Despite some of his annoyance, she was genuinely growing to enjoy his company. It was a nice respite from studying a papers and endless club meetings. He was interested in her life, her activities, her passions. He seemed to enjoy it when she peppered him with questions about his work as a king, and did not mind slowing down to explain some of the finer points of ruling goblins. One afternoon he'd even taken two hours to draw a diagram of the fairy courts – because that's apparently what he was, a fae, and he was somewhere in this mad hierarchy of nobility.

He had surprised her at every corner. Yes, he was more than a little vain and flashy. However, Jareth was proving to be patient and kind and genuine. Perhaps a bit imperious, but it was balanced with a strong sense of humor that more than often broke her façade of practicality and annoyance. She was coming to realize what she had seen in the Labyrinth in those thirteen hours were merely a glimpse of a much more rounded person.

Offering her hand across the table Sarah spoke softly. "Hey."

He looked up quickly.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to give you the impression that I want to rid myself of you. I'm…loath to admit it, but I enjoy our time together. We are friends now, I think, I don't mind it in the way I thought I would. You're funny and clever and you're not this horrible villain of my childhood." She grasped his fingers, skimming her thumb against his knuckles. "I am just trying to be realistic. Besides. You cannot really want to spend every Sunday afternoon with me until I die, right? I mean. How boring would that be for you? You can spend your time with, like, I don't know, talking trees and dragons."

Jareth seemed surprised. "Why ever would you think that? You are far from boring, Sarah Willaims."

Sarah was not prone to blushing. Today seemed to be the exception because she felt herself flush almost immediately.

He went on. "You fascinate me. I've only really observed humans, and primarily in my work. You've come through my challenge and you're proving yourself to be resilient. That is unique."

"What do you mean?"

"Many do not make it to the end," he said, brows furrowing. "And even fewer prove themselves to be able to survive after overcoming the Labyrinth. It is common for many to sink into depression or madness. The guilt tears away at them, or the notion of an unreachable land eats at their minds. Many find temptations in the Labyrinth that they cannot replicate in the Above."

This revelation settled on Sarah with no small amount of horror. "That's why you were checking up on me," she whispered. "Others who come back – they've –"

He squeezed her hand. "Not all of them. But no small number out of the few who have made it out successfully."

Sarah stared at her empty cup, absorbing this information. She'd struggled on her return. But she'd had Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Didymus, for a while. They're reassured her it was real. Thing had started turning around between her and Karen. School seemed to get easier, and then while college had a bumpy start, she'd really thrived once she found her niche. Even seeing the owl, like clockwork, had reminded her in her darker moments that it had all happened. It happened and she was stronger for it.

"Why do you do it?"

There it was. The question to end all questions. Why do you take the children? Why do you grant these oh-so specific wishes?

Jareth looked upward, as though praying. He still held her hand when he turned back to her with a heavy sigh. "That has a complicated answer. I don't wish to avoid answering it, but this is not the time nor the place. But I promise I will soon."

She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it swiftly. He was right – they were sitting outside the Mudhouse with many eyes and ears around them. Her friend Helena from ethnobiology was due to swing by within the next half hour to start a study session.

He squeezed her hand again. "Sarah. We are friends."

Sarah was surprised to find tears in her eye. He stood, shifting to stand over her. A kiss was pressed into her temple with such meaning that Sarah found herself at a loss. One more squeeze of the hand and he was gone.

**-XXX-**

He was surprised to find her outdoors the following week. He'd appeared in her kitchen at two in the afternoon only to find her half of the duplex abandoned. A note on the coffee table said that she was at a nearby park, hiking of all things. Donning a more rugged pair of boots he followed, coming upon her in the midst of a particularly steep incline of rocks. Breathless, Sarah offered a wave before bending over her knees, gasping for air. Alarmed, the Goblin King was soon upon her.

"Are you quite alright?"

"Yes," she huffed, standing upright. "Just…taking…a break."

He eyed her. "This looks like the opposite of that."

His eyes lingered on her exposed legs a touch longer than necessary, but to his relief, she didn't seem to register it. Today she was outfitted in a pair of shorts (of which he was greatly appreciative) and a thin green t-shirt, in addition to a pair of clunky hiking boots, a backpack. Her shoulder-length hair was swept up into a ponytail, which bobbed as she chugged water desperately from a plastic bottle.

"Is this how humans are now spending their leisure time?" he demanded. "Half-killing themselves in the middle of nowhere?"

To his delight, she laughed. "No, it's to get away from everything. Commune with nature. All that."

Jareth was still suspicious, but he followed her downhill, listening to her describe the various flora and fauna she'd encountered on her journey. When they reach the bottom of the hill, true to form, a clumsy Sarah tripped on a few rocks, nearly falling into a nearby stream. When he caught her, hands splayed on the small of her back, she clutched his shirt with such relief that his breath nearly stopped. This was only exacerbated by the kiss she issued tenderly on his cheek.

"My hero," she said before righting herself.

**-XXX-**


	3. Chapter 3

**-XXX—**

For the Sunday before finals week, Sarah was surprised on her return from a marathon study session with a veritable feast in her living room, complete with a proper table covered in a white table cloth and flatware with some real heft to it. There was a candelabra in the middle with slim cream-colored tapers. She clutched her laptop to her chest, eyes wide as she surveyed the offering.

Jareth smirked as she slowly entered the room. It'd taken little effort to convince his cook to whip up a to-go order. Transportation had been a bit tricky, yet Jareth was more than willing to take on the challenge. Anticipating her schedule was also a challenge, but with the ability to move time and space, he was more than confident it could be pulled off.

"Oh, but I was going to go over vocab for Macro," she said faintly.

"I can go away if it's any trouble."

She gave him a stern look that only made him smirk again, barely containing his glee. Pulling out a chair, he gestured with a great flourish. Sarah sat, still dazed.

"None of this is going to sing at me, is it?"

He did not understand this fear but assumed it was based in some kind of reality. Reassuring her that the dishes were, to the best of his knowledge, entirely inanimate, he then took the opportunity to go through the courses offered. Duck confit, creamy mashed potatoes, a salad with vinaigrette, vegetable medley, followed by a cherry crème brulee – Sarah's favorite – all with appropriate wines. She sighed with pleasure as he made the dishes disappear.

Guiltily, Sarah rose. "I really ought to study. This was too much, Jareth."

"Consider it a gift."

She smiled at him as she turned from scooping up her pile of textbooks and notes. "It was very thoughtful. I appreciate it. You've given me the strength to go on. I have been rather bad about eating this week. Too distracted by that term paper."

He drew near, a hand lightly going to her cheek. "Next week you graduate if I am not mistaken. Then what?"

She took a breath. "I'll stay here a few days. Then my family will help me move back home for a bit. I've got some interviews, maybe an internship. After that….we'll see."

"I meant what for us?"

She'd been dreading this. Weeks ago she would have been thrilled to rid herself of this weekly burden, but it wasn't a burden anymore. Jareth was a part of her life now, her routine. Soon that routine would change. She wasn't sure if she could bring her with him in that change.

When she'd returned from the Labyrinth with Ludo, Hoggle, and Sir Didymus at her side she'd assume that it was a forever thing. But as things at home and school got better and Sarah began to move away from afternoons playacting in the park and alone time with books and toys in her room, they slowly faded from her day-to-day life. Would Jareth suffer the same fate? Was he to be outgrown too?

"I don't know," she admitted, taking a long breath. "I'll be with my family, there will be less privacy. And then hopefully I'll have a roommate after I move out. It will be hard."

His thin lips twitched. She suspected that he had something to say. Yet he said nothing, merely waited. Gaze never dropping, Jareth was patient. It was a good trick – stay silent, so she would try desperately fill that empty space with sound. It was clever. Maybe a little cruel.

Truth be told she hadn't much thought about what would happen after next week. Now that she was she knew that it wouldn't work – her parents were not deaf nor oblivious. There would be no privacy. They would question why a deep, distinctly male baritone was coming from her room.

"I don't know," she repeated.

One gloved hand was on her left cheek. It felt buttery and warm and she inadvertently leaned into it. She was so tired. A weekend full of studying and saying goodbye to beloved classmates had overwhelmed her. Now this…

Jareth sighed. Her stomach fluttered. The books between them, Sarah still felt his heat. It was supposed to be a safe distance. He seemed to hesitate, moving forward with a wary grace before he took her arms into his. Her books and notes clattered to the floor as she leaned into his touch.

**-XXX-**

A massive shout unlike any she had heard before was issued as caps were tossed high. As they rained down, Sarah ducked, avoiding a few successfully. Friends tossed arms around her shoulders, some crying, others laughing. Graduation. She had graduated.

In the stands, she could make out her father, step-mother, and Toby. Karen clutched a tissue in one hand. Mr. Williams was digging through his wife's purse for a tissue of his own. Her little brother was waving wildly. His hair, immaculate before they took their seats in the bleachers, was once again wind-swept. Sarah beamed up at them with pride.

As the new graduates split off to find their respective families, something caught Sarah's attention. Lurking beneath the football stadium's bleachers, cast in shadow, a figure coolly observed the crowd. Jareth had a smile of his own, one that sent a chill up Sarah's spine despite the warm May weather. Their eyes locked.

She was jostled by a classmate who was edging around the chairs in their row. They apologized quickly but did not stop. When she looked back to the space below the stadium seats, he was gone.

**-XXX-**

The William's home of John and Karen Williams was vastly different from that of John and Linda Williams. For starters, Karen's style leaned more country club than the bohemian of John's first wife. Karen worked and expected her children to partake in household chores, and she had a bit of an iron fist when it came to cleanliness. The house had less of a lived-in feel than it did when Sarah was a child. However, it did possess a great deal more happiness than was experienced in her youth. Framed family photos were abundant. She'd never seen her father or her stepmother shout at one another. John did not spend long hours outside the house as he once had. He was home by 5:30, every night, just in time to help in cooking dinner.

Sarah reflected on this as she helped peel potatoes for Wednesday night's shepherd's pie. The idyllic (and boring) life of her parents was to be shared for at least a few months before she landed a job and a roommate. She'd hadn't lived in the house for longer than two weeks since her freshman year. It was bound to be a bit of a transition. Thankfully her parents seemed to be somewhat more relaxed then they had been when she was living under their roof as a teenager. When she'd come home at 11 pm the previous evening following drinks with a high school friend no one had batted an eye.

Still, she doubted that they would be nearly as laid-back about her usual Sunday afternoon guest. A strange man with over-plucked eyebrows and a deep baritone would not be missed. Sarah's father practically lived in front of the TV on Sunday afternoons, usually deeply ensconced in a western or a golf tournament. Karen was typically to be found in her sewing room, which shared a wall with Sarah's childhood bedroom. It was a recipe for disaster.

She was working out a plan for their weekly meeting when a wrench was thrown in her plans.

Namely, a tall blonde fae wrench who was swiftly silenced when he started opening his damn mouth.

With a faint _pop,_ the Goblin King appear in her bedroom, five days earlier than anticipated. He was looking rather tame with his hair again in a neat ponytail. Sarah leapt from where she'd been kneeling in her closet, unpacking. His breath was hot on her hand when she clapped it down on his mouth.

"What," she hissed. "Are you doing here?

He was indignant. "I am –"

Her hand replaced itself. "No. It's 7 pm on a Wednesday, everyone is awake, you can't just appear days ahead of schedule."

Mismatched blue-green eyes flashed. Her hand pressed down harder as she saw his urge to protest.

"I told you this wouldn't work."

He wrenched away, grasping her wrist and tugging her close. "I needed to see you. It's been nearly two weeks."

"I told you." Her volume dropped. "This is more complicated, my family –"

"Sarah?"

They both froze. It was Toby, she could hear the floorboards on the stairs squeak as he thudded upwards, calling her name again. One hand on the Goblin King's chest she pushed him towards her closet, the other hand thrusting towards the door.

"Don't come in," she called desperately. "I have a, uh, pile of books by the door. You'll knock them over."

He was outside now, bouncing. "Mom wants to know if you can drive me to the park for soccer practice tomorrow. It's at 10."

"Oh! Yeah, no problem."

"Okay."

His footsteps faded down the stairs. Sarah sagged with relief against the door. Jareth, who felt rather undignified after having been shoved so unceremoniously, straighten himself with a sniff.

"I believe it was you who said mere weeks ago that this was unsustainable."

She rounded on him. "It's not Sunday! I was going to have a plan by Sunday!"

He matched her volume, brows rising. "And what was this plan?"

"I don't know yet." She threw her hands up in the air, exhaling slowly as she pressed the bridge of her nose. "But it was certainly not part of the plan that you would show up so early."

"Apologies. But a visit was long overdue."

Jareth was eyeing the room. She watched his eyes trail, alighting on her bookshelf, lingering on the vanity. Much had changed since she was a full-time occupant. Gone was the wallpaper, the shelves full of games and toys and stuff animals. The walls were a soft grey-lilac, the furniture all painted a cool white. Sarah knew that in time Karen planned to make this a guest room. For the time being it was a nice retreat from endless job applications.

"Why are you here?" she asked wearily. She suddenly felt very tired.

"To keep up our bargain," he frowned, peering at the sheer white curtains that framed her window. "After all. Once a week, it was decided. We skipped a week, did we not?"

Sarah sighed. "There were extenuating circumstances. Graduation for one."

"Ah yes." He turned back to her, teeth flashing as he made to sit on the window seat. Against the feminine curtains, he made for a rather menacing shadow. "You were radiant, my dear. Success suits you."

Under normal circumstances, she might have blushed. These were not normal circumstances.

"Jareth," she said sharply, before remembering that it was 7 on a weeknight at most of the family was awake. Lowering her voice she continued. "I appreciate you coming and all, but we really need to find a different time. Or better yet, a solution to this entire problem. It's been months, and we've made no progress."

Something in the back of his gaze shifted. His mouth became a flat line for a single second before his expression schooled itself. With a pang, she realized she'd hurt his feelings.

What had been a bit of an annoying weekly ritual had changed, she wouldn't deny that. They were friends now. Maybe even a little more than friends. She didn't mind him at all, even looked forward to their time together. Her desperate pleas to find a way to stop their codependence were painful to him. He didn't find their time together to be a burden. He _liked_ coming Above each week, he _enjoyed_ doing mundane things like eating pizza, people-watching outside of cafes, ill-advised hikes. Guilt flooded Sarah abruptly. She'd been assuming the whole time that while they were friendly, these Sunday meetings were just work to him.

Taking a breath she crossed to sit at the desk across from him. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I dislike seeing you. To be honest, it's been less of a chore than I thought. You've been a good friend. I enjoy our time together. But wouldn't it be better on our own terms? Not as some weird magical requirement to prevent ghost-versions of ourselves from wandering around our respective lives?"

His apprehension gave way to a pause. "I suppose."

She kneeled before him, taking his gloved hands into hers and forcing him to look up. "Jareth."

Mismatched eyes flickered between hers, calculating. Dropping her eyes, Sarah stroked his knuckles. She moved closer, feeling his warmth. Why did this have to be so difficult?

"I don't want to stop this."

His bluntness almost made her flinch. He was unapologetic. Sarah processed this statement, keeping her gaze on his hands. He sounded strangely vulnerable. It did not sit well.

"I don't either," she said softly.

"You could come back with me," he began lowly. "We'd set everything up. You could still see your family. I can find you a job, make you a job. I know you want an occupation, I'll find something for you in the Underground. You could be with me. We wouldn't have to get by on once a week."

Suddenly his warmth had evaporated. He was scaring her. And Sarah was scaring herself with how much she wanted to take what he offered. It would be so easy. She could tell her family she'd found a job in such-and-such city hours away. She wouldn't need to worry about grad school or a job or internships anymore. It would be easy.

His eyes were on hers and she comprehended that she'd been gazing into them without flinching ever since he'd made his proposal. Just staring in shock.

The reasons weren't right. He was offering her the chance to run away, run away from responsibility and growing up. And Sarah was never one to run.

"Oh," she said. He held her shoulders now. "Jareth. I couldn't."

This did not seem to deter him.

"What is stopping you?"

There was a list. A whole damn list of really good reasons. But they were not coming to her now. The only thing Sarah could focus on was Jareth as she pressed her face up, straining to meet the lips that were teasingly above her own. He was obliged and allowed her to catch him with her mouth, sighing as she tucked herself against him.

**-XXX-**


	4. Chapter 4

**-XXX-**

The cake was sagging a little. The heat combined with a probable lack of structural integrity meant that the second tier was at an inadvisable angle. Hopefully, Sarah could find an excuse to serve it soon or risk Karen's hysteria.

Thankfully all other aspects of the party were going smoothly. The decorations were firmly in place. They were tastefully done, and no one seemed to notice the tablecloths were a hue brighter than the balloons. A veritable feast was laid out and the guests were happily munching. Toby's hair was neat as a pin. Toby himself was behaving – no running, no pranks, he was ensconced with his GameBoy DS and a new game. Karen was in her happy place – hostess extraordinaire, ready with a smile for any of your boring anecdotes. Several of Sarah's old high school friends had materialized and things between them were hardly awkward.

Yes, everything was going swimmingly. She almost felt like she could relax. Almost.

Everyone wanted to know what was next. Graduate school? A job? Had she applied anywhere? What did she want to do with that shiny new degree? They didn't mean to overwhelm her; it was, after all, a party celebrating her milestone towards full adulthood. It was natural that people inquire.

Her head was spinning. After about the twelfth round of intense interrogation, Sarah ducked inside, hoping to get a respite.

Despite being told not to fret about anything, Sarah found herself refilling the cheese tray in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. After a moment it rang again. With a sigh, Sarah wiped her hands on a hand towel. Everyone else must have been in the backyard. Hopefully, she thought, it wasn't the creepy neighbor, Mr. Sanders. He always commented on how grown up she was while staring directly at her breasts.

It was not, as it turned out, Mr. Sanders. It was perhaps a worse option.

Jareth's smirk was brilliant against the afternoon sun. She almost had to shield herself as his teeth flashed. He held a large bouquet of pink peonies and a slim box wrapped in yellow paper. Today his hair was shorn short and styled neatly. His ears were rounded, though his other elfin-features remained, including those blue-green eyes. To add to his muted look he wore a pair of slim-cut jeans and a simple white v-neck shirt with a pair of nondescript tennis shoes.

Dumbfounded, she just stared for nearly a full minute before hissing, "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

"Why Sarah, I would not dream of missing such an occasion."

"That's a pity because you aren't on the guest list." Her voice dropped. "Please. Go away. I'll see you later, come tonight, any night, but right now is not an ideal time –"

"Sarah, dear, who is it?"

She gripped the door frame for an instance before wrenching away to call back over her shoulder, "Oh, nothing Karen, just –"

Her step-mother bustled in from the kitchen, wide smile plastered on her pink face. "Hello," she chirped. "I don't believe we have met. I'm Karen, Sarah's step-mother."

The Goblin King ignored the fuming young woman who was attempting unsuccessfully to block the door subtlety. "I don't believe we have," he said smoothly, taking the hand that was offered to him. "Jared King. Sarah and I attended university together. I graduated last year and moved here a few months ago, she invited me to stop by today for the celebration."

"Oh, she didn't mention!" Her smile grew wider, something Sarah hadn't thought was possible. She could practically see the cogs in Karen's mind whirring as she looked between the pair. "Now Sarah, don't be rude, you've left him outside. Do come in, we've got everything set up in the backyard, though I was just about to grab another pitcher of tea and a few other things?"

"May I help?" he inquired politely.

Karen looked like she just might burst. As Jareth passed he threw Sarah a wink. She gritted her teeth and followed.

In no time flat, he'd charmed the pants off everybody. Even her father, who didn't like anyone but his golfing buddies and immediate family mentioned something about him being a "stand-up guy" when she brought him a platter for the burgers. The only person who was immune was Toby, whom Jareth seemed to give a wide berth anyway. Sarah couldn't avoid him. It was a somewhat large gathering, but Karen kept trying to throw them together, whispering to her step-daughter than since none of her college friends were here there was no one else to entertain the poor young man.

What could she say? No? Karen would know something was up for sure. So she resigned herself to being by his side all afternoon.

"Lovely party," he remarked when they were relatively alone. "Your family went to a lot of trouble."

Sarah narrowed her eyes, though she kept her gaze on her beer. "That was a dirty trick."

"What trick?" he asked innocently. "I merely wanted to join in the celebration of your success. It is no small thing."

She snorted. "Of course. Naturally."

He edged closer. They stood at the far end of the yard, under the large oak that dominated that corner. She used to spend entire summers under that tree, devouring library books. Library books and books that mysteriously appeared on her bedside table in the midst of the night. Well, that had been one book specifically….Shaking her head, she polished off her beer.

"Would you like to open your present?" He touched her elbow lightly, peering at her. She still was not used to his new appearance. He looked so….normal. Yet not. There was still something unsettling about him – as though he were too attractive.

"Should I open it in front of a large group of people?" she asked warily.

"I think that would be quite alright. Besides, for the time being, they've forgotten about us."

He was right. She could see all eyes slide right past them. As though they did not exist.

Sarah rounded on him. "What did you do?"

Jareth waved a hand. "I knew you would oppose if I warned you. It's nothing, a mere distraction. Think of it like putting up a curtain. They don't see us, but they're not missing us either. For the time we're safe from prying eyes."

She groaned. "You can't just magic my family and friends, Jareth, that's so unethical. Bare minimum it's rude. Undo it, at once."

With a _tsk-tsk_ sound he shook his head. "We need a moment of privacy." The yellow box materialized in his hand. He held it out, brows raised. "Come, this will only take a moment. For me?"

Sarah grabbed the box, tearing off the paper. She opened the lid unceremoniously and stopped when she saw the contents. It was a small red leather-bound book. The gold leaf title was a little worn but still legible. Years had passed since she'd last seen it, but the small volume was unchanged. With light fingers, she traced the letters. _The Labyrinth._

She realized suddenly that she'd been holding her breath. Exhaling slowly she opened the small tome, flipping through the yellowed pages. It was just as she'd remembered it. The day after everything had gone down she'd woken to find the book was missing from her bedside table. She thought perhaps it had simply been misplaced but through the years of moving in and out of her room, it had never been recovered.

There was another thing in the box too. Pressed into the side so that it lay nested against the book were a pendant and a silver chain. Sarah lifted it, allowing the facets to flash in the sunlight. It was a piece of clear crystal.

"That was from your time in the Crystal Ballroom," Jareth offered, quietly breaking into her thoughts.

Nearly jumping she looked back at him quizzically. "I thought that part was a dream. I was wearing that big puffy dressed, and everyone was in masks…we danced and it all just…fell apart."

He began coughing and it took her a moment to realized that he was actually convulsing with laughter.

"What?" she demanded.

"If you will recall, my dear, it fell apart because you threw a chair into the wall and caused it to shatter, thus destroying the ballroom."

"Oh."

"Indeed." He was amused. "It was not a dream, alas. The destruction of my second-best ballroom was very real."

"If that is your second best I'd hate to think about what your best looks like," she murmured.

Dramatically, Jareth rolled his eyes. "Do you like them?"

Looking down again, she stroked the cover of the book. "Very much," she said quietly. "Thank you."

The Goblin King kissed her temple, drawing her near by her waist.

He stayed for the rest of the party, even lingering to help clean up. When he left he shook Mr. William's hand firmly and hugged Karen. As soon as the door had closed behind him, she began gushing. Jared was so sweet, so kind and helpful, and handsome to boot. Why had Sarah never mentioned him before? Would he be around more now that they lived in the same city? He was always welcome.

Sarah tried to give the most non-committal responses possible. She hadn't mentioned many of her friends from college, there were so many. And it was not a though they had been particularly close. He was a recent transplant to their town, she guessed they might see each other more. A part of her was oddly pleased that her parents liked him. Mostly she was embarrassed and wanted to go crawl up to her room to die, but if she pushed back too hard they'd think she had something to hide. Which she certainly did.

**-XXX-**

For the first time in the three months they'd been meeting, Sarah summoned Jareth. He appeared with a faint _pop_ at the foot of her bed, brows raised. He was entirely dressed in black, that strange horned pendant on his chest, his boots heavy and dark. When he appeared she shrank back, surprised.

Brows raised he leaned against the bedpost. "I was working."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It is no matter. What do you need, Sarah?" he asked gently.

She straightened against her pillows. His eyes trailed over her own attire – a pajama set patterned with small pictures of goldfish. It was not lost on her that his eyes lingered on her bare shoulders. Lips quirking, the Goblin King waited.

"We need new rules."

"Oh, do we?"

Nodding firmly, she reached for the notepad on her bedside table. "We've got to start meeting outside of here. At least, more often. Tonight is fine – Karen and my father are on a date and Toby is at a sleepover."

He was wary but willing to listen. "Then what will be our neutral ground?"

Sarah shrugged. "Anywhere. Coffee shops. Parks. Public places."

Jareth seemed thoughtful. "Anywhere?"

Her mistake was glaring and she winced. Words were different for the fae, she was coming to realize that. "Almost anywhere," she warned.

"Would you consent to visit my home?"

Caught off guard Sarah hesitated. This was not what she had expected. Though, in retrospect, she should have. Jareth's face was impassive.

Months ago she would have never considered visiting the Underground again, and certainly not at the whims of a tricky Goblin King. She could see that this was no small proposal to him.

"I suppose," she said slowly, thoughts moving a million miles a minute. "But I want you to promise…promise that time would move the same. I wouldn't come back to find myself Rip Van Winkle'd and everyone I love is, like, in their 90s. And when I want to leave that you'll take me home, immediately. And," she added upon seeing his expression. "That you won't do anything to manipulate me to make me never want to leave."

"I would never," he said gravely.

"Right."

"Those conditions are all amiable."

"Good."

Gracefully he drifted forward. Sarah shifted on the bed, giving him some space next to her. Jareth accepted and sat beside her and took up her hand, kissing the back of it.

"I can agree to all of those terms. It will be nice to show you my home. I have seen much of yours."

She looked up at him. "I've seen a fair bit of your home," she replied dryly. "And while some of it was to my liking, there were a number of parts that were not my cup of tea. The bog, for one."

He smiled, slipping an arm around her waist. "Only the good parts. I promise."

**-XXX-**


	5. Chapter 5

**-XXX-**

There had been something rather rough about the Labyrinth on her prior visit. Back then everything had been dusty or mossy or dull. When she had first arrived he'd dropped her outside the doors in the desert lands beyond the gates. It was gritty. Uncomfortable. Unsettling. The Labyrinth Jareth was showing her now was bright and clean. Though perhaps it was just this part.

When he'd come dressed casually and proposing an afternoon in his gardens, Sarah had hesitated. It felt like a risk. She hadn't been to Labyrinth since she'd defeated him. Yet the hope in his eyes had been undeniable. So Sarah had put on a sundress, told Karen she was going out to meet a friend and accepted his gloved hand.

"Close your eyes," he said as they laced fingers. She felt the air around the move and shifted closer until their shoulders touched. Jareth pulled her against him so that her back was against his chest. Shivering as his hands rested on her shoulder, she leaned in. His breath was against her ear as he whispered.

"Open."

They were in a garden. Sarah blinked back afternoon light, absorbing the sight of hydrangeas, lilacs, and daffodils. It was a wonderfully overgrown space, winding, natural. The trees overhead were ancient, with limbs that were as thick as tires and draped with moss and vines. Pools of water half-covered with lily pads. She could see fish drift to the surface, tracking the dragonflies.

Jareth stepped out from behind her, taking her hand again. She felt rooted, feasting her eyes, but followed when he gently tugged.

Leading her through a tunnel of trellises, he pointed out the different types of flowers. It was difficult to resist burying her nose in each one. When she stopped to look at the amaryllis, paused to watch her cup a bloom. When she turned back, he took her chin in his hands and slowly kissed her. Sarah sighed into him.

"What do you think?" he asked, when he pulled away, tracing her lower lip with one finger.

"It's taking my breath away."

He smirked and she longed to hit him. Or possibly kiss him again. It was difficult to tell.

They continued walking. He showed her his favorite places – benches secluded by a willow tree, a small pond with a family of ducks resting on its surface, a rose garden that was meticulously maintained in comparison to the somewhat-overrun aesthetic of the rest of the plot. She balanced on stones that lined the edge of a bed of ferns as he walked below, amused. On the arched bridge over a crystalline stream, the stopped, leaning over to peer into the water.

It was Sarah's turn to kiss. She tentatively moved closer. When he looked at her, she leaned up, capturing his lips.

Pressed against the railing, she felt Jareth's hands skim her waist, stroking her sides. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pushing the fabric up to rest her hands against the flat of his stomach. As he pushed closer she felt his want full against her. Heat rushed her face. Then slowly, lingering kisses before were different now. He was hungry, his teeth taking her lips between them, his hands moving to her outer thigh, light against her hips. She wanted to both pull him to her, devour him, and move far, far away. Suddenly she was seated on the railing and he was between her knees.

"Jareth," she breathed when he moved to her neck.

Sure, in college and late high school, she'd had boyfriends. She'd kissed more than a few guys, maybe done more than kiss. But not that much more. The stakes had been a lot lower. Kissing Aaron from her sophomore Calculus class might have resulted in a little embarrassment and awkwardness when she ghosted a week or two later. Making out with the King of the Goblins was not something that ought to be done lightly – for despite what he might say, it would not be "just a kiss."

"Jareth," she said again with more urgency as his face moved close to her breasts, nose skimming the fabric of her neckline. He cupped one breast, a finger circling the nipple that strained against the fabric. Sarah's hands went to his hair as he teased her, the heat between her legs feeling suddenly flooded.

"Sarah," he said, his voice husky. His forehead pressed into hers as he caressed her. His hips were glued to hers and he made an exhale when she shifted forward to meet him.

The spaghetti strap of her dress slipped. Jareth helped it along, pushing down the other and groaning when her chest was on full display for him. He lowered his head against to put one taut nipple in his mouth. Suppressing a sound, Sarah's fingers digging into his skull as he worked to undo her with each motion of his tongue, pressing him into her bosom. When he surfaced he was out of breath.

She held his face, one hand on each cheek. "Jareth," she said, soft. "Jareth we can't."

There was a long pause as his breathing slowed. Sarah adjusted her dress, covering herself again, and pushed off the railing to stand before him. Placing her hands on his chest, there was a quiet moment between them. Embarrassment on both sides prevented wither from speaking until Sarah kissed the Goblin King lightly on the cheek.

"I want you," she said, not letting him look away. Her own boldness felt like an out-of-body experience. "Just – not like this."

Jareth met her eyes. There was a gleam in the back of them. "Whatever you might require," he said quietly. "I would happily provide."

It almost made her laugh. She managed to school her expression. Speaking slowly, she chose her words with care. "It's not a matter of the location or accommodations. There are other…circumstances."

Gaze searching, he took up her hands. "Anything you should require. I am a patient man."

"That is exactly what I need."

"Then you shall have it."

His hands found her waist. "I apologize for my forwardness, Sarah. I lost control, though that is not an excuse for my behavior."

Hands wound around his neck. She kissed the tip of his nose. "I was hardly a model of restraint myself. Let's finish our walk."

**-XXX-**

Three weeks after graduation, Sarah finally landed an interview. It was for a position at a local indie bookstore – not exactly the dream, but it would pay the bills and give her the chance to consider moving out of her childhood bedroom. She wore black slacks and the pearl earrings Karen gifted her for graduation. The interviewer was far more casually dressed and did not seem very impressed by her bachelor's degree. They were, however, very interested in her relationship with books. Once they started discussing favorite authors, Sarah relaxed enough to see that the interview was going well.

She started a week later. It was not what she expected – less organization, more helping people find books. It was more than a little infuriating how often people refused to use the store's catalog computers or even just check the shelf – everything was alphabetized! But the pay was okay and it was better than spending her days on her parent's couch reading comics online or babysitting Toby, who had just started his summer vacation.

Her coworkers were a little older and a little cooler. There was Elle, who had pastel pink hair and a septum piercing set with a faux opal, and Carl, who wore round glasses and whimsical socks with his neat button downs. Maris's short black bob and thick blue frames were a little intimidating, but she was great at helping Sarah navigate more difficult customers.

They were nice enough, but she felt isolated. All of them had been working together for ages. They often left together to grab drinks. She had been invited but so far she'd had obligations after her shift, namely picking up Toby from soccer practice. Hopefully, they did not think her stuck up and someone would ask again.

On her fifth day working she was making her way out to her car, weary from an exceptionally long call with a very particular collector inquiring after a specific edition of a children's book series entitled _Honey Bunch_. He'd been displeased by Sarah's pace and long pauses as she read through the information in the catalog. Replaying the conversation, she was occupied enough to not immediately notice the figure leaning against her car.

Jareth's hair was short today and a sandy color, longer on top, the fringe pushed over to the left. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, slightly scuffed trainers. If she didn't know better, he looked like someone she worked with; aloof, cool, mature. The afternoon sun highlighted his tan and gave him an otherworldly glow. Which was fitting, because he was utterly inhuman.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, keys dangling from her hand. It was not an accusatory question, and thankfully he did not take it as such.

"I had an afternoon off," he said, pushing off her vehicle and meeting her in the middle from where she's stopped. "You've been busy. I thought I might treat you."

"I've had a long week."

"Yes, you've started a new career I see." He jerked his chin towards the bookstore behind her. "Providing society with literature. A noble profession indeed."

Sarah adjusted the strap of her tote bag, blinking back the sun. It was bright, a terrible day to forget her sunglasses. "Just a job," she murmured, tucking her keys into the back pocket of her jeans. "Something to pay the bills."

His hands were on her waist. "What would you like to do? We must celebrate the occasion."

"Sarah?"

They both turned. Maris and Carl were walking together. Carl had a cigarette tucked behind his ear and Maris's glasses had been swapped for some aviators.

"Hi," Sarah said, quickly separating from Jareth. "Hello!"

Their eyes were both on Jareth. Well, she assumed Maris's gaze was on Jareth; it was difficult to tell with her sunglasses. She couldn't blame them. For starters, she'd never mentioned a boyfriend. Besides that, Jareth was hard _not_ to stare at – even in this more subdued appearance, he was strangely beautiful.

"Who is this?" Maris asked bluntly.

"Jared," Jareth said, flashing his teeth and extending a hand. Sarah wanted to facepalm – people in their 20s did not generally shake hands like politicians at a 4th of July parade. "King" perhaps was close enough to a politician, so perhaps she shouldn't blame him. "Jared King."

"My boyfriend," Sarah said, perhaps too abruptly, because Carl and Maris looked unconvinced. "We went to college together. We were about to go to…" She looked up at him.

"Dinner," he supplied. "To celebrate Sarah's first week of work. Would you care to join us?"

They begged off, claiming prior engagements. Maris kindly said she hoped they had a good weekend. Then they went to their respective vehicles. Sarah took the cue and pulled Jareth into her own car.

"That felt close," she murmured as she tuned the radio. "Though I don't know why. We're not exactly hiding anything."

"I am glad to know that you're not ashamed of me," Jareth said dryly.

She shot him a look. "I don't want people at work asking too many questions about you. God knows how I would answer them. I can't exactly tell anyone that my partner is a monarch or rules over all goblins. That would bring up even more questions…."

He looked unperturbed. "I don't see why not."

"People would think I'm off my rocker. And I'm already on my probation period. No need to give anyone the impression that I'm delusional."

Jareth chuckled. "What would you like to do?"

Considering, she turned the volume down a little. "Could we just drive for a bit?"

"Of course."

She pulled out of the lot, hoping that Maris and Carl were not watching them. Without any plan, she was determined to cruise for a bit, picking her favorite route for driving and listening to music. As she settled in for a ride, Jareth took up her hand. For once he wasn't wearing gloves. His hands felt pleasantly warm.

A comfortable silence fell between them. Jareth watched as the world passed outside with genuine interest. As she relaxed, Sarah quietly sang along to the music. It had been a long week, full of stress and anxiety. The weekend was here.

**-XXX-**


	6. Chapter 6

**-XXX-**

The summer was passing quickly. July was busy – between work, a brief family vacation over the 4th of July, barbeques with friends, and visits to the Underground, Sarah barely had a moment to herself. She was submitting applications every week for full-time positions, and at the end of the month, she had a few showings scheduled with a prospective roommate.

Her coworkers had again extended a few invitations and Sarah had thankfully been free to accept those invitations. She learned that Elle's girlfriend lived two states away and was finishing a degree in documentary filmmaking. Carl also still lived with his parents; he was taking care of a mother with early-onset Alzheimer's. Maris was still a bit of mystery. She was more of a listener than a sharer. Even when she had a few drinks in her she sat in the corner of the booth, quiet and attentive. Carl was definitely the closest to Maris, with Elle being tertiary.

Sarah's anxiety about fitting in was mostly faded. Occasionally when she made a mistake she felt like running to the bathroom to burst into tears. Everyone was patient, they reassured her they'd been there too.

Karen and her father were happy to see her working. Her father was helping her look at rentals, and they'd agreed to spot her money on any deposits, though they promised that they did not want to rush her out. Having an extra set of hands around to drive Toby to soccer, make dinner, and fold laundry was nice.

Things had changed a great deal since she was fifteen. The tension between herself and Karen had abated. Her father, still a little absent, had gotten better at expressing his affection. She felt as though they'd never quite be perfect – too much had gone down in the divorce, she looked too much like her mother, there were too many fights between them.

Jareth was another element she was juggling. He was patient, content with the time she could give him. It felt for a time like they were squeezing in moments, seconds stolen between shifts and long nights of writing cover letters. All the while he was waiting in the wings, appearing just when she started looking for him.

**-XXX-**

A rare Sunday afternoon found them back in his gardens. Jareth had produced a bottle of wine. She'd brought a blanket and a book. Pairing a long skirt with sunglasses, Sarah pushed her hair back with a beaded headband. After spreading the blanket out on a sunny patch of grass between a pillared folly and a gurgling fountain, she'd immediately tossed off her sandals and spread out with a sigh. The king drew a pair of goblets out of thin air, uncorking the wine and handing her one of the goblets.

"This is a very fine vintage," he said, swirling his glass. "My father oversaw this harvest."

She eyed him over her sunglasses. "I know better than to assume that means it's less than a few hundred years old."

Jareth flashed his teeth. "Are you inquiring my age, Sarah Williams? My, that is rather bold."

"That's not what I was doing, but I can humor you. How old are you?"

He lowered himself onto the blanket, laying on his side, propping his head on his elbow. Taking a lock of her hair and twisting it thoughtfully he gazed at the strands. "It's difficult to put into mortal terms. Let's just say that I am…significantly older than you, my dear."

"I don't know that my parents would approve."

Scoffing he prodded her side. "When has anyone's approval ever concerned you?"

She pushed his hands away, squirming as the fingers hit their mark. "Dirty old man," she groused as he tickled her ribs. "Lusting after someone who is virtually a child."

Jareth effortlessly caught her wrists, lifting them above her head as he rolled over her, holding himself just above as she shifted below. Sarah glared up at him.

"You were saying?" he breathed. Heat flared in the pit of her stomach as his weight pressed down. She lunged up and captured his lips, nipping then soothing with her tongue. Jareth responded enthusiastically, lowering himself into the cradle of her hips. Sarah strained to meet him, hands above her head grasping the blanket beneath her. He finally released her, mouth against her neck as she dug into his back. Open-mouth kisses, hot and wanting, slowly turned to gentle, warm nuzzling. Jareth pulled himself up, looming over her.

Beneath him, Sarah glared. "Tease."

He chuckled, swiping one thumb on her lower lip. "Just a taste of things to come."

Truth be told she didn't mind these quick, stolen moments of passion. They left her feeling electric, the want rushing in her veins like a drug. Someday soon neither of them would have the sense to pull back. Jareth might be over a millennia-old but he had about as much restraint as she did.

She sat up, straightening her skirt and adjusting her headband. One of the goblets had been tipped over amid their tryst, and her sunglasses had gotten a little bent. Holding them up, Sarah sighed.

"We really need to find some self-control between the two of us," she murmured, attempting to bend the glasses back into their original shape.

Jareth plucked them from her fingers, running his hands over the damage and returning them to her good as new. "Perhaps," he allowed with a small smile. "Though I don't see why."

She crossed her legs, smoothing the chiffon of her skirt. "I feel like a teenager, groping my boyfriend in the back of a car in an abandoned parking lot."

The Goblin King sat back, lazily tipping his head back to the sun. "That is an oddly-specific example. Almost as though you've lived through it yourself."

Nudging his foot she rolled her eyes. She was not going to feed him any information about her romantic history - information he likely already knew. The wine bottle caught her eye and Sarah poured them both more, thankful for the distraction. She had work tomorrow, she shouldn't have too much. But getting a little tipsy wouldn't hurt.

"I wish I didn't have a shift in like twelve hours," she sighed, leaning back on her elbows. "I feel like I've barely had a weekend. Can you do that reordering time thing?"

He raised a brow. "A rather frivolous use," he said, yawning.

"Because you always use your magic for strictly business purposes."

Smiling wryly, he sipped his wine. "You could always stay with me. You would never have to rise before the dawn to do menial labor."

His tone was jovial, joking, but Sarah felt a chill. It had been a while since he had brought up her living in his kingdom full-time. Despite his casual way of introducing the topic, she knew that he was utterly serious. Jareth would see her installed in his household. He had offered to find a way to let her be Above regularly. She trusted him; he would not lock her away never to see the light of day again. But it was a big decision. It wasn't something she had envisioned for herself, it wasn't part of her plan. She was supposed to get a better job, get an apartment, work her way up, buy a house someday, maybe find a partner….

She shook her head, blinking behind her sunglasses. "I don't...I don't know right now. There are still things I want to do. I'm about to finally get my own place. Things at my job are going well. And we're doing well. Why should things change?"

"Working for barely anything, moving into a box with another person." Frustration crept into his voice. "When you could have a palace, be a queen, do whatever you please. Sarah, I could give you your dreams."

He was starting to sound like the menacing villain of her childhood. Looking down, Sarah fiddled with the edge of the blanket, pushing her sunglasses onto the crown of her head. "But my dreams have changed," she said. "I'm not a little girl anymore, I want real things. I don't know exactly what those are, but I want a career and a purpose."

"Sarah." Jareth was sitting up now. "You can have those things. I will give you an occupation. A home. Anything you would desire. I want your happiness above all else. "

"I desire a slower pace," she said sharply. "Jareth, we've been doing…this, whatever this is, for only a few months. I don't know how things work Underground but we mortals usually take a bit of time before allowing ourselves to be whisked away to other dimensions or whatever. I need some time, I need to think."

"I am hardly a stranger to you, Sarah." He sounded angry. "You knew what I wanted."

Had she? Had she known what he was looking for when he reappeared in her life?

"Sarah." His voice was level, face impassive. "I have been patient. For eight years I have waited. I can wait longer, but I do not want to waste any more time. Mortal lives are fleeting."

"Is that the truth, then?" she spat. "These illusions weren't just some accident? You've had this endgame the whole time. You weren't watching me to make sure I wasn't going mad, you have been waiting for the right moment to swoop in and bring me back to your Labyrinth."

He sneered. "You've no idea of what you speak. Do you hear yourself, Sarah?"

"Do you hear yourself?" she threw her words at him, standing. "You've been waiting eight years! Waiting for me to be ready, to be lost enough to want to run away with you. You wanted to find me vulnerable and aimless so you could show up with your palace and your gardens, your promises that everything would be perfect. This isn't any different from snatching babies. You wait for people to be at their worst and you pluck them up."

The Goblin King was ashen. His hands were clenched as he rose from the blanket, stalking towards her. Sarah's treacherous feet stumbled back as he surged forward, backing her into a pillar of the nearby folly.

"You know nothing," he hissed. "You think I would spend my time obsessing about some child? I have true responsibilities, Sarah, you must think a lot of yourself if you believe I have created an elaborate ruse to seduce you."

"Then what do you mean, you've been waiting eight years? How else am I supposed to take that?" Her back was against the stone. Jareth had descended upon her, his chest brushing the crossed arms she had put up as a defense against him.

"I meant that you bewitched me nearly a decade ago, yet you made yourself plain in your rejection. After seeing numerous runners fall after their victory, I wanted to ensure you avoided that fate. When I finally stepped away it became clear that fate had different plans. So I came to you, trying to determine what it meant that we were both seeing shades." He swallowed, turning his head, looking away from her. "And you did not immediately turn me away. I was intrigued. I still wanted you. You might not have greeted me with open arms, but neither did you run away screaming. So I decided to see what happened."

Sarah's chest was heaving. The tension was palpable. She felt his power pressing down, his frustration thick in the air, crackling. Was this physical embodiment of anger a result of his nobility or fae-ness?

"When you began to see me, truly see me as something beyond the antagonist, I felt hope. Was that hope misplaced, Sarah? You trust me, you've let me bring you here, you have sought me out of your own free will, you have let me touch you –" At this he turned his eyes back on her, lifting a hand to her face. When she closed her eyes, he froze in midair, then lowered that hand.

It was Sarah's turn to avoid his gaze. She felt dizzy. "I think it should go home," she said quietly.

Against his thigh, his hands clenched again. "Sarah…."

"Please."

There was a long pause, the silence filled with only the sound of the fountain in the background. After several seconds, Jareth stepped back. The weight of his presence lifted marginally.

"As you wish." His voice was cold.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back into the pillar, relief spreading. When she opened them again she was in her parent's house, standing in her childhood bedroom. The scent of gardenia lingered briefly, the only evidence that she'd been in the Underground mere moments before.

**-XXX-**


	7. Chapter 7

**-XXX-**

When Sarah returned from the movies with her friends she shut the door with more force than entirely necessary. Karen jumped at the sound, nearly poking her fingers with the embroidery needle that had been previously poised to go into the fabric of her hoop. John jolted awake from a light doze he'd cultivated in front of the television, mumbling. As her stepdaughter hung her purse and Karen watched closely. At twenty-three, she had long stopped making the house shake in anger. It was easy to see that the young woman was upset – her shoulder-length hair was mussed, eyes red-rimmed, matching her hot cheeks.

She set her cross-stitching aside, following her step-daughter to the kitchen, observing as Sarah pulled a soda from the fridge with a strange amount of aggression, slamming it on the countertop.

"What did that soda do to you?"

Sarah rounded on her step-mother, eyes blazing. But the moment she had puffed herself up she quickly deflated, almost instantly falling apart. Rooted for just a moment, Karen quickly put an arm around her. She had come a long way from screaming at the top of the stairs and throwing fits, a long enough way that Karen sometimes forgot how young her stepdaughter really was.

Leading her to the kitchen table she made Sarah sit. Picking up the Diet Coke and plating a few of the cookies she made the day prior, Karen placed them before her step-daughter. Sarah's sobs subsided enough for her to sip the beverage, hiccupping after the carbonation hit her.

"What happened?" Karen asked. "I thought you went to go see a movie with those girls you work with."

"I was going to," Sarah said, shaking her head. "They both had things come up. So I was just alone outside the theater and I saw Jared."

Karen gripped her wrist. "And?" There was a pang of worried in her voice.

"Nothing like that," Sarah sighed. "I've…well, I've gone on a few dates with him, since I've moved back. He's not what I expected. I had a crush on him in college, but I thought he seemed a little, I don't know, aloof? But he's been great."

"Why didn't you tell us you were seeing him?" At her step-daughters look, Karen lifted her hands up. "I'm not saying you need to ask permission, but I don't see why you would keep it a secret, either. He's a nice fellow, from what I saw at the party. And he clearly likes you."

Massaging her temples, she agreed. "He is nice. I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, I just didn't want to get your hopes up. I know you worry about me not dating and all. If it went anywhere I would have told you."

Karen sat back in her chair. "So what happened outside the theater? You saw him and then what?"

"Well, he was just getting out of a movie. So we went for ice cream. He told me he is moving soon. But that's not the upsetting part," Sarah said quickly, seeing her step-mother's expression. "No, he asked if we could do long distance and if I'd consider moving with him in a few months."

At that Karen's mouth fell open. It took her a moment to compose a response. "Well, that is…how many times exactly have you gone out, dear?"

Sarah looked miserable. "I don't know, maybe like a dozen. I really like him, that's the problem. But it's crazy. I can't move across the country for someone like that."

Her stepmother bit her tongue. She agreed – it was crazy to even consider moving in with someone, states away, after only a few months. But she did not have much room to talk – when John had suggested she move in they'd been engaged for only a month and dating for only five months. They had just known, and they'd both been adults, in their late thirties and early forties. Sarah was hardly grown-up at twenty-three with only a few casual boyfriends under her belt.

"I can't tell you what to do," Karen said, folding her hands in her lap. "I've only met him once and I do think that even if you dated long distance for a few months, it would be a lot to ask of you. I won't lie and say it doesn't scare me, Sarah. You're an adult, you make your own choices."

Slouching, Sarah's put her head on her arms, which were folded on the table. "That's what's difficult. It feels like it ought to be an easy choice. But it isn't – I like him! More than I've ever liked anybody. I feel nuts for even considering it."

Karen stroked her head, Sarah's fine brown locks spilling onto the table. She was at a bit of a loss as to what to say. The least she could offer was comfort.

**-XXX-**

Sarah rolled over, stretching her arms until her fingers were over the edges of her full-size mattress. Facing the ceiling she stared up at the popcorn texture. Years ago she'd put plastic glow-in-the-dark stars up there. Over the years a number had fallen, but there were still roughly a half-doze clinging to the rough texture. At night they still emitted a faint greenish glow. There was something about the stars that made her feel like a child again; it was a cozy, safe feeling. She missed it.

Somehow it had all come spilling out to Karen. Sarah surprised herself with how easily she'd been able to adapt the story, lying to cover the more inconvenient realities. It had been scarily effortless. That, she supposed, came from her mother. Linda was renown for her acting ability. She was less known for her falsehoods, but John Williams would tell anyone about it who cared to listen.

The lies weren't so far from the truth, though. She had gone out with Jareth about a dozen times. They were old friends. He had asked her to move in after only a short about of time, and in doing so terrified her. And she was more than a little horrified by how tempted she was to take him up on that offer.

Her conversation with her step-mother had not exactly been illuminating. Still, it was therapeutic. It was nice to vent and hear someone say that she was not crazy for resisting her desires.

Now the question was what to do?

Jareth was angry; she was angry. They both needed space and time. With any luck, there would be apologies on both sides. Maybe some clarifications. Perhaps things could go back to normal – well, "normal" for their circumstances.

She suspected that he wouldn't drop this notion. If she wanted things to return to how they were, she would need to convince him to be patient. There was no reason to rush. If he could give her some time perhaps –

-What? She would change her mind? Run away to the Labyrinth? Abandon her family, her career prospects, her independence?

When she was a child she dreamt of castles, fairies, magic. Back in those days, she had lived based on the whims of her parents, on a schedule that focused on school and character-building chores, after-school clubs meant to build leadership and confidence. As a child, there was little autonomy to be had. It was no wonder that she longed for the escapism of fairy tales, which was something many children did.

"I'm an adult," she whispered to the ceiling, then groaned into the pillow, feeling ridiculous.

Over time the escapism faded. She went to college and found independence. Magic didn't seem so real, not when she was making her own magic every day. What had tempted a fifteen-year-old whose life revolved around a structure set entirely by others was not nearly as appealing to a twenty-three-year-old who was for the first time venturing out on her own.

It was only seven, according to the clock on her bedside table. Despite the time, Sarah felt exhausted. She was opening tomorrow. She ought to just sleep, then wake extra early. Maybe, in the light of a new day, things might be a bit easier to digest.

She allowed herself to slip into sleep and she did not dream.

**-XXX-**

Before he'd even kicked the chicken, the goblins knew that something was wrong with their king. He appeared in the throne room, brow furrowed, and it as was though a black cloud had descended upon the castle. His chest was heaving. The two dozen goblins milling about immediately made to scramble.

The poor hen, Penny, had clucked herself in the king's way and soon found herself flying across the hall, wings flapping uselessly. Thankfully, the chickens were fairly bouncy – it did not hurt as much as it surprised the poor bird.

"Uh-oh," squawked a small goblin named Bink, who was at the moment sitting on top of the keg in the corner. "The girlie changed her mind."

Jareth rounded on him, snarling. Bink cowered behind the barrel. "What was that?

"N-nothing," he squeaked, helmet-rattling as he quaked.

"That's right," Jareth hissed. "Nothing. Now. Scram!"

There was a mad rush for the door.

**-XXX-**

"Enough. What's going on with you?"

Sarah had been mechanically straightening shelves, facing books and making sure all the spins were level. Surprised, she turned to Maris, who was leaning against the counter, red lips pursed.

She rose from where she'd been kneeling in the cookbook section, dusting off her knees. "What do you mean?"

Maris rolled her eyes. "Sarah, you've been sighing like every five seconds. And while you are generally kind of off in your own little world, today I truly believe you're having some kind of out of body experience. So what's up?"

Blush crept up her neck. Feeling hot, Sarah turned back to the cookbooks, speaking slowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was so distracted."

"Hey," Maris said sharply. "I'm not, like scolding you. You seem upset and I am worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Sarah repeated. "Things have been…I've just had a rough weekend."

One black brow rose. Maris's voice dropped, taking on a more casual tone as a few customers trailed in, nodding at the young women. They quickly moved towards other parts of the store, clearly on a mission.

"Is it that guy?"

Sarah almost gave herself whiplash. Maris grinned triumphantly. She looked like a self-satisfied cat, draped against the counter with her elegance and smirk. "I knew it."

Sarah wanted to sigh but felt self-conscious enough to hold back. "Yes, okay. We had a falling out this weekend. It's not like a big deal."

Maris clearly did not believe this. Sarah couldn't even pretend to believe it herself. If she'd been so out of it that Maris was accusing her of being off, she was pretty distracted. It had only been two days. Their conversation in the garden kept playing over and over again. Sleep eluded her. Soon she was going to have to start medicating herself if she wanted to truly get rest.

Sarah crossed her arms, exhaling. "Maybe it is affecting me a little more than I'd like," she admitted. "But I really don't want to talk about it."

Hands up in the universal _"don't shoot"_ gesture, Maris shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you're not like, suffering. Because it seems like you're maybe not okay."

"I'm just trying to figure some things out." Sarah's fingers traced the edge of the counter. "Jared is in a different place than I am. It's all overwhelming."

Maris was quiet, her silence inviting Sarah to go on. Thankfully, the shop bell rang out again as another gaggle of customers came in, loud and eager. They immediately sought out help, saving Sarah from discussing her love life. But she could tell from the gleam in Maris's eye that the younger woman was not going to drop this subject.

The next two hours of her shift were a whirl of phone calls and hurried customers. School was starting soon – people were buying textbooks and trying to get those last few novels to finish off their summer reading list. Sarah was grateful for the mindless occupation.

She was spared from picking up the conversation with Maris until they began preparing for closing.

"So what do you mean by 'different place?'" she inquired as Sarah began to sweep between the shelves.

She suspected that Maris would not let it go. She liked Maris, but the girl could be a little intense. Biting her lip, Sarah decided to throw her a bone.

"He wants me to move in with him. It's just a little soon."

Black hair bobbing, Maris nodded thoughtfully. "You've only been dating over the summer?"

"Yeah. And I really like him. It's just going a little too fast." Sarah leaned against her broom, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. If they kept talking she would never get this floor done. "But it'll be figured out. I'm just thinking it over."

"Do you like him?"

Sarah blinked. "Well – yeah. But it's not a matter of like. I'm not crazy enough to rush into anything. Moving is a big deal, it's some serious commitment."

Maris opened her mouth, clearly looking for more but Sarah began moving the broom again, switching the subjects to their current stock of graphic novels. Later, when the girls walked to their cars together, Maris extended the offer to go grab a beer.

"If you need to talk," she said. "I'm always here."

Sarah politely declined. Karen expected her for dinner. She was opening again tomorrow. She needed sleep.

As Sarah drove away, she could feel Maris's eyes on her.

**-XXX-**

After a few more chickens had been kicked and a mess satisfactorily made, Jareth sat on his throne, chest heaving. He couldn't remember being quite this kind of mad before. Sure, there at been a few goblin-y mishaps over his rule, a couple of irritating runners, a fellow monarch's idiocy that had set him off. But nothing had every quite gotten to this level.

The damn girl. The damn, blasted, beautiful, clever girl, once again being too caught up in herself to see -

He had thought things had changed after seven years. True, it was not that much time, even in the twinkle that was a human's life. But given her age and what he had witnessed since Sarah had taken up higher education, gotten some independence...he thought things were different.

He was wrong.

The king massaged his temples as a few of the scattered fowl clucked and wandered aimlessly. They, much like goblins, bounced back pretty easily and seemed unaware of the king's rage. A white one near his foot pecked at a few pieces of straw before moving onto his boot. Jareth let the bird, feeling rather exhausted.

_What to do what to do what to do what to do..._

He'd been wrong in assuming she was ready. But it was too late. He loved the damn girl, despite himself, and the king was not going down without a fight. The only question was how.

At that moment he felt a nudge and closed his eyes. His merciful Labyrinth's warm comfort radiated upon him. He could feel the ancient being sweep along his arms in a facsimile of a hug, giving what it could in sympathy. Gently, she pressed a thought towards him.

"You are not wrong," he admitted aloud, though there was no one in the room to hear him, excepting chickens. "The matter is in her hands now. She won't see any reason unless she comes to it herself. But surely I cannot merely stand by, helpless -"

The Labyrinth banished the notion. Yes, he must stand by, exactly that. No interfering, unless, of course, he was summoned.

The notion did not sit well with the king, who sat back in his throne, fingers brushing the horned pendant that sat in the middle of his chest. The Labyrinth was right. He grudgingly acknowledged this. Now all there was to do was wait and trust the ancient being that in time, all would be well.

**-XXX-**


	8. Chapter 8

**-XXX-**

Hoggle cowered before him, stumbling over words as the king lounged, legs over the arms of his throne, moving in an erratic rhythm as he studiously ignored the dwarf before him.

It was time for their monthly report – something they'd done since Hoggle had been installed as the groundskeeper. Usually, Jareth listened to Hoggle's updates on the outer wall and the inner gardens, made a few remarks and sent him on his way. Today, clearly something was distracting the king. He was unimpressed by Hoggle's report on the reduction of the fairy population and the yield from the orchard on the eastern side. Instead, he rested his head on his knuckles, eyes far away.

"—we've established a trade agreement with the farmer to the south to get their manure in exchange for palace vegetable scraps."

"Scraps," the king repeated vaguely. "Very good."

"And we're going to run our new water system through the Bog of Eternal Stench." Hoggle paused to see if his monarch was listening. Jareth was still staring into the middle distance. "And then we're going to reroute the Bog to the courtyard of the palace."

"Very good."

"So you're checking off on putting the Bog in the palace courtyard? I'll need you to determine where we'll be relocating your statuary."

That seemed to snap him out of it. His eyes refocused like lightning striking a tree. "I'll see you relocated into the Bog, Hognarl," he snarled. "Before you move my statues."

Hoggle quivered. "Just making sure you were paying attention, ss-sire."

Jareth sat back in his seat, crossing his arms and frowning petulantly. "I don't require your minding, dwarf, I was listening as you prattled on."

Shuffling towards the door, Hoggle nodded. "Of course."

The king glared. "Stop your pathetic attempts at sneaking. You've got a report to finish."

"Ah, yes." Guilty, Hoggle eyed the door. It was too late to run, but not too late to distract. "Is there something on your mind, your highness? I do not wish to add to your…er…burden."

To his surprise Jareth sighed, slumping against the throne. "It's that infernal girl. Your Sarah cannot seem to make up her mind as to whether she wishes to have anything to do with me. It's quite vexing."

This caught the dwarf's interest. His feet stop aching for the door. "What's Sarah got to do with you?"

When the king's eyes flashed, Hoggle realized what, exactly, he'd said. It was common knowledge by now that the king was courting Sarah, or at least pestering her in the Above fairly often. Hoggle and Didymus did not approve. Ludo tended to keep his card close to his chest, so they were not certain of his feelings. Either way, for the time being, they'd been forbidden to seek the girl out unless they were summoned. Hoggle resented the rule, but it was the only way Jareth would allow them to see her at all.

"She has everything to do with me," the king purred.

Hoggle blushed. "It seems like she don't anymore," he countered.

Thundered rumbled through the hall, and when lightning struck down beside him a second later, Hoggle nearly leaped out of his own skin. A black scorch marked the stone. From his throne, Jareth smiled down lazily, a crystal rolling between his long gloved fingers

"She'll come 'round, in time," the king promised. "And without my prodding. It's just a matter of playing the waiting game now, Hedgewort, and you know how much I love games."

Trembling, the dwarf merely nodded. His eyes were on the orb in the king's hands. Reflected in it he could see things strange and terrible and oh-so-far-away.

But mostly, he could see Sarah.

**-XXX-**

When a week passed she feared that she would begin to once again envision the monarch in her day-to-day life. Any man with blonde hair she caught from the corner of her eye set her on edge. Deep voices that radiated from the stacks sent her into a sweat. When she drove home she found herself eyeing the joggers and dogwalkers, fearful.

Two weeks passed and nothing. Toby started school and when she found herself searching amid the crowd of parents dropping their little ones off instead of kissing her baby brother goodbye, Sarah wanted to kick herself. She couldn't help being on-edge; still, she could choose to focus on the present rather than seeking out ghosts. So she swore off looking.

Perhaps, she reasoned, maybe it really was something that could be turned off an on. Or maybe it was like a vaccine – effective, for a time, but occasionally you needed boosters. She and Jareth had banked their time and would be without their ghostly selves for a while. It was unclearly what, exactly, was happening, but for the time being she was happy to have the peace.

The routine that she'd built her life around was shifting. She found herself joining her coworkers for drinks more often, spent more time watching old movies with her parents. It wasn't better or worse – merely different.

Just when she started figuring out the steps, the dream came.

**-XXX-**

She was in a room that seemed both endless and claustrophobic. Warm bodies pushed up against hers as she moved through the throng of party goers. No one seemed to particularly notice the girl in the garnet gown squeezing between clusters of masked folk. Which was surprising, as the dress she wore carried with it a full ballgown skirt. Sarah felt as though she were wading through fabric.

 _"I don't much care for this,"_ she thought as she lifted the skirts to begin stairs that led to the upper level. At that moment the material in her hand shifted, transforming into something new. With a squeak Sarah dropped the skirt, which seemed to deflate, falling against her legs smoothly. What was left was midnight-colored and close-cut, flaring out slightly at the ankles.

"Oh my," she murmured. This was a place where words mattered. And thoughts too, apparently.

No one seemed to be thrown off by the abrupt change in wardrobe. They continued milling. Sarah passed the crooning band, where a bewinged fae plucked at a violin and a pair of round-faced goblins kept beat on the taut skin of a drum. The purple eye woman singing in the center of the musicians winked when Sarah caught her eye.

She kept her head up even as she found herself thrust in the closed throng yet. To her extreme discomfort, everyone in the group was involved in things Sarah personally thought best left to bedrooms with closed doors. She blushed as she tried to avoid the sight of tapered fingers groping heaving breasts and the wet open-mouth kisses being pressed into willing necks. Somehow she managed to not lock eyes with anyone. Finally, she found herself back in the middle of the dance floor.

Time seemed to be both moving faster than light and slower than a snail. She felt dizzy, looking at all of the people swaying to the music. Why wasn't she dancing? Everyone else was dancing.

 _You need to leave,_ a small voice urged. _Find a way out. Leave!_

But there were no doors. No doors or windows from what she could see. The room went up several levels, with fae lounging against the railing overlooking the pell-mell below. Perhaps if she could get to the highest level of the room she could scope out an exit. It was just a matter of finding a way up. Sarah searched for the nearest set of stairs, spotting a banister rising above a rounded couch where a number of people lazed together. One look at their heedy expressions told her that she did not want to examine what they were doing on that couch together. Steeling herself she began to push through the dancers.

A bulky dwarf barreled past her nearly halfway to the start of the stairs, shoving her so violently that she spun. Heels did not help the matter and Sarah ungracefully flailed. Crying out as she spun, she would have fallen had she not been swept up by another in the crowd.

Strong hands held her by her waist, midair. Breathless, Sarah stared at her rescuer, heart pounding as she came down from the adrenaline that had coursed through her since the second she'd found herself in the ballroom. Her arms had wound around his neck when he'd caught her. A small smile was tucked in the corners of his mouth. The rest of his face was obscured by a dark mask. It was black and reminded Sarah of a bird. Even despite this, he was unmistakable.

After an age, she finally managed to exhale as he righted her. Despite being solidly on the ground now, the Goblin King kept his hands firmly on her, sliding to rest lightly above her hips, which were accentuated by her dark blue gown. He wore a jacket that matched, silver threads glinting throughout, complimenting the silver buttons that ran down the Regency-style piece. A cravat rested along his throat, a broach in the shape of crescent horns nestled in the middle. His hair was tamed, pulled back in an elegant tail and tied off with a silken ribbon.

"You seem lost," he said softly. "May I be of assistance?"

Sarah shivered as he gazed down with a frightful intensity. Pulling back, she found herself trapped, his gloved grip keeping her in place. Around them, folk continued dancing and drinking. No one paid them any mind.

"Let me go," she whispered, a desperate note breaking halfway through the sentence.

"Surely you don't intend to leave so soon? You've only just arrived. And last time you left barely before you'd had the chance to enjoy yourself." His tone was entirely conversational, silky and dangerous. From the depths of the mask, his eyes were burning. "I shan't let you slip away so easily this time, Sarah."

If the situation were any less serious, she would have snorted at this Disney villain-esque declaration. Instead, she felt cold seep down her spine. Here was the antihero of her youthful fantasy. Alluring and damning. She reached up to push against him just as he sought to draw her closer, meeting his hips with hers. As her hand shoved against his shoulder, he caught her wrist. Sarah thrashed, twisting her arm painfully in an attempt to evade his grasp. But it was no use.

Jareth's answering smile was lazy. He had pulled her so close, she could feel his breath on her cheek. The mask gleamed in the light of the nearby candles, adding a further menacing touch. Abruptly, the Goblin King whirled, drawing the young woman with him into the dancers. Off-balance, Sarah was forced to cling to him as he spun through the motions of the music.

She felt something swishing around her legs. Looking down she recognized the white ballgown that swirled against the polished marble of the floor. When they passed a mirror she saw that her hair was pulled back by an elaborate piece of viney silver, leaves scattered throughout her wild locks. It was not lost on her that the costume was quite bridal.

And Jareth, in his regal attired, could be mistaken for a groom. She shivered again.

"Forgive me, I am rather sentimental." There was a smile in his voice. She didn't appreciate his humor and strained against him.

"Sarah, your determination is admirable, though tiring. I do wish you would focus your energies elsewhere." He sighed as they turned about the room, effortless in his easy direction.

Dizziness was again creeping into the corners of her vision. Though she cursed herself for it, Sarah found herself sinking against him, allowing herself to be led through one song, then two. Jareth only gripped her tighter as he continued speaking in a measured voice.

"What will it take to get you to speak, I wonder? Promises? Threats? Pretty words in your ear?" He cocked his head. "I find myself making up for your lack of conversation, Sarah. It really isn't becoming as a guest to force your host into generating the majority of the tête-à-tête."

"Why are you doing this?" she said finally, refusing to meet his gaze. She kept her eyes squarely past his shoulder. "Following me into my dreams…you're supposed to not have any power over me."

For a moment his fingers tightened, then to her surprise, the Goblin King threw his head back in a laugh. "No power over you? You silly girl. There is no one who has more power over you than I. But the same could be said of me. There is no being on heaven or earth who holds such a sway over the Goblin King."

Sarah blinked. "Hardly," she murmured.

Jareth shook his head, still amused. "I supposed that does not answer your question. I didn't come to you. You pulled me in. I awoke here after your summons. Intentional or no you made a call. And I answered."

"That's impossible."

He shrugged. "It doesn't really matter if you believe it to be possible. It's done now. I'm here. And you're here. Curious."

Frustration welled in her throat. Sarah swallowed, closing her eyes as they slowed for the next song. "I didn't want to be here. And I sure as hell did not want you here with me."

"Sarah." His voice was soft, the mocking tone fading. "We have been fools."

She did not answer. The music seemed to dim as Jareth slowed their swaying until they came to a complete stop. The voices of the other party goers too ceded. He released her, stepping back and only letting his fingers linger upon her hand. When Sarah opened her eyes, they were all alone. The ballroom was vast and empty without the crowd. It was just the Goblin King standing before her. He pulled his mask off to look her fully in the eyes.

"I waited eight years," he said. "I'll wait eight hundred more. Sarah."

In the emptiness, his baritone echoed throughout the room. Sarah wrapped her arms around her waist. The applique scratched her skin. She could hear the puffed sleeves crinkling as she moved.

"Don't you see I can't?" she said. In her own head, her voice sounded seven years younger.

"What are you afraid of?" He was earnest, surging forward with a furrowed brow. "I'm offering you more than your dreams, Sarah. I want reality, not the fabricated happy ending of your childhood."

As he moved towards her, she fell back. They were in another kind of dance, movements matching as they spoke. At his words, a fire swept up the coolness that had been coursing through her. Anger flooded her veins.

"You don't live in reality," she said harshly. "You cannot tell me you want to give me something real while you have thrown me into this." She gestured at the opulence around them, shaking her head. "I'm not a child anymore, I don't want gold and fairy princes and worlds turned upside down for me. I've got a life above, one that is just starting, Jareth, I am twenty-two. You're offering me everything that glitters, but that simply isn't how the world is – not the real world. I don't want to be trapped Underground, I want to have a _life_."

At this last frantic statement, her voice broke. Her arms had gone back to her waist, holding herself as she spoke with increased intensity.

He was very pale. Against the ivory of his cravat, he was almost translucent. Bloodless lips and dark under-eye circles reminded her of the final confrontation seven years ago, when he'd stood before her and begged her to let him rule her. He looked as ill then as he looked now. Back then she'd thought it was one last trick. Now she wasn't so sure.

A small part of her longed to reach out, comfort, take it back. But she'd lose ground. And what was this, if not a battle? They might not be fighting for a baby now, but it made no difference. Her soul was at stake in this battle of wills. He'd been right. " _You have no power over me,"_ a lie, meaningless in this world where words meant everything. A lie. A once-comforting lie.

"I would not make you the Persephone to my Hades," he said finally, voice hollow. "I will not force you, Sarah. A life Underground would not be the falsity you make it. I am just as real as you, our life would be as genuine as any you'd build in the Above."

The room shifted as he spoke, light dimming and drawing nearer to them until they were surrounded by nothingness, the only space visible that which was outlined in a narrow circle of light with Sarah at one end and Jareth at the other.

"Why is it so difficult to believe me?"

Sarah simply gazed at him, the question echoing as she considered. Instead of answering she posed her own inquiry. "Why do you want me? I haven't been especially kind or extraordinary in any way. When we met I was a bratty kid. What could you possibly have seen to want this?"

"Sarah," his low voice took on a quizzical tone. "You are stunning. You have kept me enraptured since you left the Underground. I see all of your strengths, I know you could rule beside me as a partner and keep us in peace and prosperity."

"I was a child," she whispered.

"Too old to turn, too young to keep," he replied. "I gave you the chance, in the end, though it was ill-advised. You turned me away. Which was to be expected. So I contented myself with watching from afar. When you invited me back, allowed me to see you again and be at your side…I knew I could not be satisfied in merely watching."

Some part of her acknowledged her words as she spoke, though the majority of her mind was numb, processing what he had said. Her voice was distant. "So I never had a chance. There was never going to be a future for me without you in it."

The Goblin King _tsk'_ ed at this. "I was determined to stay away until you wished to see me," he said firmly. "If that day was never to come I was at peace with that. I am hardly a cradle robber, Sarah, I did not appear until it was clear that there was a need for it."

"Whose need?" she demanded, suddenly snapping back. "Because it hardly felt like my need. You just randomly showed up as this weird ghost one day and conveniently the only solution is seeing you regularly? I've been such an idiot. You've been puppeteering from the very start."

He swallowed. "I did not create this problem. I don't know what caused it, but I won't lie and say it was not an opportunity I leaped at when presented with the chance to see you again."

It was exactly what he'd been saying all along. That he wasn't sure what was making this happen. How could that be true? He was the one with the magic. He was the one who was at least a millennia-old. Then again, when had he ever lied to her?

"You believe me," he said. She refused to meet his gaze. He moved to stand closer, stopping only when he was an arm's length away. There was a note of anticipation coloring his voice. "Sarah. I want you to be my partner. I don't wish to take anything from you but that which you wish to give. The life we would have would be just as real as any in the Above."

At this, he waited. His chest was pounding, and she noticed a slight quiver in the gloved hand that rested against his side. He was nervous. Just a nervous as she was at his proposal. What had he risked to say these things, uncertain of her reaction? And what would happen if she were to shred his hope and walk away?

Without thinking, Sarah reached up and clasped that hand. Taking the invitation, Jareth followed, drawing her against him with a grateful sigh.

Around them, the light had shrunk and the darkness grew, giving them only a small circle in which they stood. If she had not known it to be a dream, Sarah might have been frightened. She had always been afraid of the dark. In that oubliette long ago, she had assumed he knew. The rest of the Labyrinth seemed to have been built on her dreams – it was no stretch to imagine that other parts had been constructed from her nightmare. Jareth appeared to the fifteen-year-old Sarah as a combination of both.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered against the collar of his jacket. It was scattered with stones and fine silver embroidery which itched against her cheek. For the time being, she could ignore it, merely content with being near him again.

The Goblin King's arms tightened around her and for a moment she feared that he was off-put by this statement. But he rested his head against her and she knew that he understood. He didn't relish the idea of her internal conflict, yet knew it was evitable.

"As I told you, I can wait." He paused. "But can you, Sarah?"

She didn't know. When she lifted her chin to look up at him, she saw that the light was fading fast. Opening her mouth to speak Jareth cut her off with a kiss and then she knew no more.

**-XXX-**


	9. Chapter 9

**-XXX-**

The pounding on her door was echoed in her head. Wincing, Sarah lifted her head from the pillow, bleary eyes adjusting to check the time on her phone. 9 a.m. It took her a moment to calculate that she was not late – it was Sunday, the Sunday before her brother was due to start back at school. She didn't work until the next day, so sleeping in was a perfectly acceptable thing. To her, anyways. Not to whoever was knocking.

"What?" she croaked, pulling the comforter back up to her neck. Karen was blasting the AC again and she was freezing.

"Mom says you have to get up," Toby's high pitch was muffled by the door. "We're going to get pancakes!"

Had they planned this? Or was it spur of the moment? She couldn't remember. Hugging the comforter to her chest briefly, Sarah contemplated making up an excuse to get out of pancakes. Last night she had met up with her coworkers for a round at their favorite bar, Ace's. As a result of some pity shots from Maris she was not quite hungover, but nearing there. Her head felt fuzzy, anyways, and vaguely achy. Groaning she rose and opened the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked her little brother.

Toby was practically bouncing. At eight, the prospect of pancakes was still extremely exciting. "Neighborhood Café!"

"Are you going to get a Mr Chippy?"

Mr Chippy was the somewhat-horrifying pancake creation the restaurant featured on its kid's menu. The chocolate chip pancake was given a whipped cream face, complete with cherry pupils and a butter pat nose. Sarah had loved them herself as a child. In retrospect, the sight was stomach ache-inducing.

"Mr Chippy is for babies," Toby declared.

It was a little sad hearing him say so, though she agreed. Toby was a little old for smiley face breakfast foods.

"Mom says be ready in fifteen."

Sarah caught sight of herself in the mirror in the hall behind her brother. Fifteen minutes would only just be enough time to make herself presentable. Cursing in the back of her mind, she suspected that this was a plot of Karen's to punish her stepdaughter for her evening activities. A loud breakfast restaurant was hardly going to be good for her headache.

"Okay," she sighed. "Be down soon."

When the sound of Toby crashing down the stairs faded, she sat on her bed, rubbing her temples gingerly. In the light of a new day, there was a lot to think about – how she'd conducted herself last night at the bar, whether her stepmother was upset she had come home drunk, and worst of all, her dream.

Could it even be called a dream? There was little doubt in her mind that it was not created by her subconscious. She had spoken with Jareth for the first time in almost a month. They'd continued their argument and maybe even made progress? Still, she was hardly in a place where she felt warm to the idea of inviting him to visit.

He wanted a decision. She wasn't ready to make one. They were at an impasse, just as before. Though, she supposed, they'd both gained a little more clarity last night as to the other's perspective.

"Sarah?"

It was her father. With a start, she realized she'd lost track of time and more than fifteen minutes has passed.

"Coming!" she called as she threw a sweatshirt over her thin tank and slid into a pair of shoes. Finger combing her hair after rubbing the residue makeup from her eyes, she grabbed her cellphone and bound down the stairs, ready to shove away thoughts of Goblin Kings and fairies in favor of breakfast with her family.

In the tree overlooking her bedroom window, a barn owl watched from where it was nestled in the leaves.

**-XXX-**

He less-than-please with where they had left things. Jareth was under no illusions that Sarah, his strong, clever, witty girl, would simply fall into his arm upon their next meeting, but he'd hope that time would grant her a little more clarity on matters. She would miss him, perhaps. Admit that she had a hole in her life now without his presence. Maybe even enough of a hole to convince her to compromise.

But that had not been the case. She was not to be persuaded – Sarah would have to come to the realization on her own that life in the Underground would be right for her. Somethings had not changed in the seven years since she'd run the Labyrinth. While no longer a daydream-ridden self-involved brat, she had maintained her hard-headed nature. There was nothing that would bring her over to his side except for herself.

When the Goblin King had returned to his own bed, he'd nearly destroyed a set of fine down pillows in his frustration. Self-control had prevailed, however, and he was left with merely grumbling before turning back to sleep. Nothing was ever solved without a good night's sleep, after all.

The ball was now in Sarah's court as far as he was concerned.

**-XXX-**

Monday morning arrived and brought with it sunny skies. At Toby's request, she left the house extra early to drop him off at his first day of third grade. Karen had been a little put out, but allowed it only after taking about a million photos of the kid on their porch in his Back-to-School attire, sporting a new backpack and gel-spiked hair. He was bursting with energy. At orientation the week prior, he'd found that two of his best friends had the same teacher. Sarah's heart pulled at memories of a simpler time.

"I won't be able to pick you up," she warned as they pulled into the drop off lane. The teacher in the bright orange vest seemed a little overwhelmed and the line wasn't moving as efficiently as it would be in a few weeks once everyone would start getting the hang of things. "I'm looking at apartments after work. Your mom will be here, though. I think she said she might even take you to get ice cream as a First Day treat."

"I don't want you to move out," Toby complained. "It's more fun with you around."

Sarah sighed. "I know. But I'll still be close. It's time for me to get my own place! When a person gets older they sometimes want more space and privacy."

"I can give you privacy!"

She suspected he might not be fully aware of the meaning. Jolting forward as the car ahead peeled out, she put the car into park. "I appreciate that, kiddo. Tell you what. When I get settled in, you can come visit. We can do sleepovers and order pizza. How does that sound?"

This seemed to assuage the eight-year-old. He nodded solemnly.

In the crosswalk, the teacher was gesturing. _Get a move on!_ Sarah lifted a hand, nodding.

"Okay," she said brightly. "Well, here is your stop. Have a great first day! I can't wait to hear all about it when I get home."

Toby was already reaching for the door handle. "Bye, Sarah!"

She lingered, watching him bound up the steps to the front door, where a group of teachers stood to greet the students back from summer break. At the honk of a car behind her, Sarah pulled out and made her way to the bookstore, feeling a little sentimental. In a few short years her brother would be in middle school, then high school. Time was moving too quickly.

Maris was already at the store by the time Sarah pulled up. She was opening this morning and had already accomplished most of the tasks on the list, so Sarah worked on swapping out the faced display books. They were due to change out their seasonal display soon. She was thinking of maybe putting a selection of biographies in the front window, and perhaps a collection of bartending-themed books on the shelves near mysteries and crafts. That juxtaposition of genre and non-fiction "how-tos" that typically featured quilting patterns and scrapbook inspiration was a little difficult to balance at times, but she'd found that there were paperback mysteries for nearly every hobby. Baking and knitting cozy mysteries were popular, but there were others with boozy puns in the title that worked perfectly for that display.

"Nice weekend?" Maris asked as she refilled the bookmark stand.

"Yeah," Sarah said absently. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know, fine. I ran into your boyfriend at the park yesterday. Oh, sorry." Behind her blue frames, her eyes widened. "Ex-boyfriend."

Sarah froze over a stack books. "What?"

"He was on the wooded trails around Hawthorn," Maris continued, moving on to dusty the top of the counter. Hawthorn was the park Sarah had frequented as a child. She'd spent countless afternoons playacting there, by herself in homemade costumes. "I said hey and he recognized me. Said hello and asked how you were."

"What did you say?" Her voice sounded demanding to her own ears.

Maris did not seem surprised with her coworker's tone and more than eager to divulge the dirt. "I said you were fine but we hadn't had too many shifts together lately. He asked how work was, but he was clearly trying to get more info on you. It's Jared, right?"

"Right."

She leaned heavily against the display, jostling some books as she did. Somehow Jareth had been here. Had he opportunistically placed himself somewhere where he would meet Maris, as a way of sending her a message? Or was her coworker mistaken? Had she met some other tall blonde dude in the park who had also had his heartbroken by a Sarah Williams?

"Are you okay?" Maris was concerned.

"Uh, yeah," Sarah said faintly, rubbing her temples. "Yeah, just a little surprised."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," said the elder girl quickly. "I wasn't sure –"

Sarah cut her off. "It's fine," she said, pushing away from the book display, dusting imaginary dust off of her pants, aggressively avoiding eye contact. "I just am surprised. He was supposed to have moved by now."

"Maybe he's back to visit family?" Maris suggested.

"Maybe."

Or maybe he was hanging around waiting for Sarah to breakdown and notice him. Either way. It was creepy. And she was not going to stand for it.

**-XXX-**

The Labyrinth was unsettled.

No one else might notice, but he could feel it. Deep, in his ancient bones, he knew. She typically maintained a steady hum, a note that felt comforting and warm in its regularity. When there was danger, the frequency grew. When the land was weak, tired after a bad season of drought or bogged down with rain, she became faint. When a challenger ran her twists and turns a tinge of excitement bound in both of them. And when there was great sadness or loss, he couldn't feel her at all,

That had not happened for a long time,

Lately, she had felt more and more absent. He'd barely noticed, being preoccupied with courting his infuriating Sarah. But as of late, he could feel the slight strain, as though she were pulling him.

 _Come. Look. Here,_ she seemed to call.

The sun was setting, casting all in the Underground in a golden haze. Today he'd canceled his last few meetings of the day and sequestered himself in his apartments. His nightly venture with Sarah still had him a little worn out, both physically and emotionally. It was a rare chance for him to take a moment and be at peace, especially after the turbulence of the last six months. Everyone seemed to sense this, even the ancient spiritual being that guided the magic of the Labyrinth. She'd been quiet today, too.

Leaning against the frame of his open window, casually rotating a few crystals between his fingers, the Goblin King let himself relax. He enjoyed watching the sun sink beneath the horizon, observing the watercolored sky and the way the light shifted across his lands. When he'd first been thrust into the position he had been greatly resentful – the Goblins were mocked, not revered by any means, and he was to be king of them. But with the passage of time, Jareth had discovered a happiness in his work and his home. It could be, at times, beautiful. Especially the Labyrinth itself.

He reached out to feel her, wishing to share the compliment. She usually preened when he praised her, like a cooing bird. His magic brushed against her, but the Labyrinth did not respond. Frowning, the king paused in his motions, holding the crystals aloft as he tried once more. Again, she seemed to shake his inquiry free. As though she were otherwise occupied. Distracted.

Jareth pressed down with his magic, hard. He was hardly the Labyrinth's master. In all of the years together he'd rarely had to push against her – they were so often of the same mind.

In response, a hiss traveled down his spine. She did not wish to commune, not now. There were other matters at hand that she was dealing with, she did not have time for talkative kings.

The Goblin King withdrew, still frowning. This was something entirely uncommon. She had never rebuffed him before, even when the land was sick and dying, even when they were in the midst of battle. Something was wrong. But until she was willing to connect with him, he was in the dark as to what troubled her.

Should she keep this up he would be forced to take dramatic action. Jareth wasn't sure what that action might be, exactly, but for starters, he could begin but looking into what, exactly, held her attention.

The sun was a mere sliver along the crest of the horizon when Jareth resolved to stop pestering his Labyrinth. Pouring a hearty glass of wine he planted himself in his window again, mood thoroughly ruined.

**-XXX-**

In retrospect, she was not certain what made her think driving to the park after work was a particularly good idea. It was highly unlikely he would still be there, lurking around a day later. Still. She felt compelled to guarantee that he wasn't waiting in the shadowy wood, ready to accost any acquaintance as a means of sending her a message.

There were other ways of getting her attention. Much easier ways. If he wanted to see her, why wait for Maris in the park? And why have such a mundane experience with her?

Perhaps, a small, logical part of her reasoned, perhaps Maris was mistaken. There were any number of guys that new Sarah that still lived here, possibly even one or two that had vaguely Jareth-like features. It was entirely likely that she'd seen another guy, said hello, and the person recognized her from the shop. Why, just two weeks ago the boy who'd taken her to Prom had come in the shop and remember her. He was sort of tall and blonde. It was feasible.

Sarah pulled into the gravel lot, scanning the landscape as she threw the car into park. A wooden sign marked the entrance with the city's Parks and Rec logo of a tree beside a river taking up half of the signage. There were a few folks milling about – parents with young children, a retiree walking their small mop-ish dog, a couple of bikers and runners on the trail that snaked into the woods.

Her hands grip the wheel. It was highly likely this was just a misunderstanding. That she was simply freaking out after that dream-vision-thing and he had not really been here and Maris had been wrong. She ought to put the car into drive and go home. Toby was likely bursting, wanting to tell her everything about his first day back to school.

She ought to do that.

Instead, Sarah found herself on the trail. Unlike most she passed, she was in her work attire – a pair of non-ripped jeans and a dark green empire-waisted blouse, a few locks of her shoulder-length hair clipped back from her face. Sarah was grateful for the bookstores no open-toed shoe policy, for the trail would have been a challenge in sandals. She wore a simple pair of canvas shoes, the kind that were a little boxy but very comfortable. Almost everyone who passed her wore workout attire. She was envious; August was one of the warmest months, even this late into it. And the humidity was a killer too.

Navigating the path was easy enough. It was a straightforward trail, with plenty of signs, benches every so often, and the occasional trash can. This park was popular for runners and bikers, as it connected with several other parks to create a twenty-mile loop through the city. But being a weekday and close to dinner time, it wasn't terribly busy at the moment. Soon she started seeing fewer and fewer people, and began to hear only the gurgle the river though the thick growth of trees.

"You're doing this to clear your mind," she told herself. "Nature and reconnecting and stuff."

_Not to try to hunt irritating fae or to put myself at ease knowing he's not lurking out here. Just a normal, every-day walk._

**-XXX-**

The next morning the Labyrinth was still distant. Still, in bed, Jareth tried once, twice, to get her attention. Both times she shook him off, too occupied with whatever had her so enraptured. Jareth tried to follow the trail of her magic, a thin cord that travelled between the Underground and herself. He was enraged to find her focused on something in the Above before she swiftly shuttered herself to him.

This immediately set the king in an awful disposition. His morning report was riddled with tension as his secretary quivered through the agenda items. Goblins dove out of his way as he stormed down the hallway. By lunchtime, the castle was a silent as a grave, with many of its residents cowering behind tapestries. The groundskeeper had fled to the outer gates of the Labyrinth, Hoggle wisely sensing the mere sight of himself would be dangerous to his health.

Jareth retired to his office after lunch – which he'd been forced to summon himself, the kitchens being vacated. Frustrated, he stared out the window. This was the longest she had ever shut him out. And without cause too! Prudence typically granted him patience, but today he was balanced on a single thread that was is great danger of snapping. Action need to be taken.

Without a second thought, he reached to touch the link between them, putting the cord taut and following it to find her.

**-XXX-**

Sarah was grateful for the bench. She'd been walking thirty minutes and not at a particularly measured pace. Her frantic need to find an answer had lent to an admirably quick pace, but now she was sweaty and breathing a little hard. Her blouse was sticking uncomfortably to her skin. Sitting only made the feeling more apparent.

Groaning, she dipped her head back, closing her eyes. This had been an extremely dumb plan. What had she expected, the Goblin King waiting for her behind a tree?

"What an idiot," she murmured. "Though I'm a bigger idiot for not bringing water."

Checking her watch, Sarah felt a twinge of guilt. Her family was likely wondering where she was, and Toby would be especially anxious. She ought to head back up the trail and make for home. She would tell them she'd taken a walk and lost track of time. Looking at her phone she saw that she was out of cell service. Sarah suppressed another groan.

Standing slowly, the young woman stretched her arms above her head, closing her eyes as the muscles strained. A breeze rustled her hair as the dregs of afternoon light warmed her. What she really need to do was take a true hike, a relaxing one not filled with paranoid visions of fae and goblins. Perhaps in the coming weekend...

"Well, come on feet," she sighed, lowering her limbs.

When she opened her eyes, Sarah screamed.


	10. Chapter 10

**-XXX-**

The black-clad figure that loomed in the middle of the shadowed path shifted forward as Sarah shrieked. Their motion was one of alarm, not of menace, as Jareth the Goblin King moved into the light, concern across his features.

Her fear only faded when he stopped just before her, hands up in the universal "don't shoot" motion. She calmed, though drew back as he moved closer.

"You scared the ever living shit out of me," she cried, hands balling into fists against her thighs. "What the hell are you doing creeping around out here?"

One of his elegant brows rose. "I am hardly creeping, my lady, I am on a public path and walking in broad daylight."

Her heart was still palpitating. "Right. You just so happened to be taking a walk, in all the possible places, here. Precisely where I happened to be. Also, it is near sunset, that daylight is not so broad."

The fae sneered slightly. "I had no notion you would be here. Believe it or not, Sarah, not everything in my life revolves around you. I'm looking for something. I didn't know that here was where I would end up. Finding you certainly was not my goal."

Anger rose in her throat. "Am I truly supposed to believe that?"

"I don't care what you believe." His voice was cold.

Sarah crossed her arms. She immediately regretted it as she made contact with her sweaty self. Inhaling, she looked up at the Goblin King. He was dressed in imposing attire and heavy boots. His hair was loose and looked as though an electric current had been run through it. When she met his gaze she saw frustration reflected back at her. He really had not meant to find her. He was just as upset as she was.

"Then what are you here to find?" She tried to keep her tone measured, civil. Dropping her gaze she waited for his reply.

Jareth hesitated, thrown off by her sudden change in attitude. Finally, he said shortly, "It doesn't matter."

Her eyes snapped back to him. "You realize that sounds super suspicious, right?"

Glaring, he threw his hands up. "Very well. My Labyrinth has been missing. She's been occupied somewhere in the Above and I couldn't tell what she was so focused on. I followed the connection and this is where I ended up."

"Your giant maze led you here?" Sarah wasn't sure how to digest this information. It didn't sound remotely legitimate, though to be fair she wasn't exactly an expert on magic. "Your big stone logic puzzle which you apparently share a psychic connection with told you to come to this exact point?"

Sighing deeply, the king massaged the bridge of his nose with one hand. "The Labyrinth is more than a bunch of bricks, she is an ancient and powerful magical force, and it's becoming clear to me now that she was being rather tricky is getting me here. I have no doubt this was a ploy on her part."

Dumbfounded, Sarah sunk onto the bench. "I'm sorry, what?"

"She drew me to the Above, likely so I would be forced to see you." He was looking at her now, calculating. "Why are you here? Are you feeling stressed?"

He remembered that she often hiked when feeling overwhelmed. It was something he'd caught her in the midst of months ago, right before finals or midterms. He'd been thrown – she would hardly be described as "outdoorsy" – but the king had been game to go along with it. They'd circled the lake and shared a granola bar that day.

"Maris said she'd seen you on the trail this weekend," she began, realizing how silly it would sound. "And it made me so mad – I was sure you'd been trying to send a message or spy on me or whatever."

"So you came to find me," he said slowly.

"Mostly to yell at you," she admitted.

Jareth frowned. "I have not been in the Above since our last physical meeting, a month ago now."

There was something fishy in the air and it was not the scent of the nearby river. Sarah shook her head. "Maris could have been wrong," she said, uncertainly. "I guess. She only met you once or twice. But let's go back to your thing. Your Labyrinth drew you here to see me? Why?"

It was evident that the Goblin King was working quite hard not to roll his mismatched eyes. With the greatest patience, he gestured to her. "Likely because she thought I was being a miserable sod over you. She's not exactly subtle in her desires."

"And what are her desires?" Sarah felt silly, speaking about a structure in this manner. She followed his lead in pronouns, wondering how exactly the Labyrinth manifested itself.

The Goblin King bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile. "For nothing but my happiness and the prosperity of the kingdom."

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. She pressed her hands together in her lap.

He was suddenly next to her on the bench, sitting on the opposite side. Even sitting he loomed over her, his black cloak and heavy boots adding weight to his presence. Sarah looked up at him, biting her lip. So much had changed since the last time they had truly been together. A little over a month had passed since their fight and only a day since her dream. She'd been processing what he'd claimed, their argument still reverberated in her mind.

_We have been fools._

"I've missed you," she said abruptly.

Jareth's brows rose. He was quiet for a moment before asking, "Have you truly?"

"Of course."

"I…have missed you as well."

The sound of the water moving just beyond the trees claimed the space between them as both digested the words. They stared out at the expanse of trees. Sarah could catch glimpses of the river between the leaves, shimmering the late afternoon sun. She wondered what he was thinking. Jareth's eyes were fixated on the greenery before them, however, they were unseeing. He seemed so out of place in his cloak and linen shirt on a trail where most people wore mesh shorts and tennis shoes. She almost laughed at the thought of Jareth in workout gear.

"What is making you smile, Sarah?"

She blinked at him, realizing that she was staring. "Oh. Nothing." Then, she shook her head. "Jareth, I don't know what to do."

"So you've said," he remarked dryly.

"Oh stop," she said, sighing. "I really don't. You've had years to think about this, you know exactly what you want. I've barely had six months to realize that this was on the table, Jareth. How was I to know? And between graduating and trying to move out on my own, life has already been overwhelming. Throw a faery king in the mix who wants to whisk me away, and I don't know what to do, Jareth."

She was crying. Jareth was watching as she spoke, observing with an impassive expression as her voice cracked. He did not interrupt, letting her continue.

"Can you possibly imagine? Having a sort of plan for your life and then someone comes along and show you this whole other option that is entirely tempting but also completely terrifying? Jareth, I love you, but people don't just run away to magic land with a fae they barely know –

He cut her off. "You love me."

It was not a question. Sarah stopped, wide-eyed. She had not known she'd uttered the words.

"Well, yes. I supposed." She released a breath that had been inadvertently held in.

Jareth's expression was still unreadable, though he moved closer, covering one of her hands with his. Her teary eyes traced his face, trying to suss out his intention. Surely she'd not offended him. Wasn't her love exactly what he'd been seeking?

"I'm sorry, I know that wasn't exactly romantic." She wiped at her eyes with her free hand, looking up at the branches ahead as she did so.

"I love you too," he said softly.

She burst into tears again. "What are we going to do?"

Jareth squeezed her hand. "Whatever you wish. You can come back with me if you choose. We can split our time between the Above and the Underground. Or I can leave you be."

For a moment she imagined her life if Jareth were to walk out of it. Things would likely be much as they were over the last month. She would soon be out on her own. In time she might start graduate school or perhaps a more full-time career. She might one day meet someone, settle down, have children. Or, at least, a few dogs. Perhaps things wouldn't feel empty. But there would always be the knowledge that there was something unseen out there.

"I don't think I want that," she said softly, moving closer on the bench so that their bowed heads nearly touched.

A gloved hand went to rest on her neck, the thumb tracing her jaw. The light was fading fast, they were in a dark blue shadow and his eyes seemed to glow against the dark. "We can only try. Come be with me. There is much to do in running a kingdom. You would never be bored. I'll not have you idle and pretty, you were meant for more, Sarah. I promise."

She almost began crying again. Jareth pressed his forehead to hers, his voice low as he continued.

"I know that it frightens you. I have never imagined anyone else by my side, Sarah. It will not be easy. Yet I know that whatever it is we face we'll face together. You've shown me to have all that I could wish for in a partner, I hope that I've shown the same to you."

Despite their honeyed sweetness and genuine meaning, the words made Sarah laugh through her watery smile. "Jareth, I was barely president of my high school French club. I don't know anything about running a country."

The fae smiled down at her. "You'll learn."

"And what if I ruin everything? What if in six months I decided I want to get my Master's degree, or live Above full-time, or any number of things?"

"Then we'll figure it out."

Lower lip quivering, Sarah squeezed the hand that held hers. Those were words she'd heard before. This time, they finally struck. With only a little hesitation, she leaned up to close the gap, kissing him with ferocity. Jareth immediately melted into her, moving closer so he could wrap his arms around her shoulders. The cool early autumn air suddenly felt hot. Sarah sighed into the embrace she'd missed for nearly two months.

Teeth clicked against hers as the Goblin King's passion increased. All of the tension of the last sixty days, all of the frustration and longing went into his kiss. Soon Sarah found herself straddling Jareth, her knees uncomfortably pressed into the rough grooves of the bench's uneven wood surface. He held her by the waist, fingers pushing the green fabric of her blouse up. She audibly gasped when she felt him against her core, involuntarily grinding against him and tearing her mouth away from his as the pleasure struck center. Eyes hazy, Jareth looked up at her as he traced her side. Sarah moved against him, shuddering. He felt amazing.

Wordless he lifted the hem of her blouse, peeling it back and discarding it to the other side of the bench. Sarah's breath hitched. Her breasts were still covered by a bra, but she remembered that they were, well, in public technically. He removed his own jacket and shirt.

"Jareth, someone might –" she whispered, pausing in her motion.

"No one will be able to cross the path," he murmured, cupping one breast. "Nor hear us."

Another piece of magic used to conceal them, just like her graduation party. Biting her lip, the weight of what was coming crashed into her. They were going so fast. Maybe too fast.

The worry was soon swept away by Jareth delicately removing her bra and his gloves, turning his full attention to her chest. The cool evening air was a balm against the fire of her skin. When he rolled a taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, Sarah quickly forgot any caution.

When she arched her back to move against his pelvis once more, Jareth groaned and placed his face between her breasts. The warmth of his breath against her sternum encouraged her and Sarah gripped his shoulders. She was aching.

Pressure mounted. She would need a release soon. Jareth mouthed at one breast, his hand trailing down her stomach to her waistband. She adjusted to let him. He wasted no time coaxing two fingers into her folds, his thumb teasing her center. Sarah clutched his shoulders. She moved with him as he pumped his digits in and out.

"Oh," she managed. "Jareth."

He grinned into her shoulder. Sarah bounced, the aching becoming nearly unbearable.

"Let me have you," she breathed.

He needed no further invitation. She hovered above him as he undid the fly of his pants. What had long been imagined by too-tight pants was a reality. He was beautiful. Holding herself steady, Sarah lowered herself onto him, closing her eyes as she took in the length. Despite their foreplay, she was still not quite prepared and it took a moment of accommodation to get him into her slick folds. Her hands held his shoulders.

When she opened her eyes Jareth's face was tilted back, lips parted as he observed her. Breathless, she kept her gaze locked as she rolled her hips. His hands moved to her waist, gliding against her skin deliciously, guide her motion. She tried to slow down, stay steady, but her need was overwhelming. She wanted all of him, and now.

"Sarah," he said in warning as she picked up speed. His hands gripped her rear now, squeezing the flesh. There was no doubt that she'd have marks come morning. She pushed herself forward, feeling him lift to meet her. They were both so close.

"Sarah," he said again with urgency in his voice, and at the sound of his agony, she did not hold herself back any longer.

Arching her back she rolled her hips again, taking the full length in with a final gasp. The Goblin King bucked below her, hips rising to meet hers. His hand tangled her in hair, lips and teeth and tongue meeting her neck as they collided. And all too soon they were crashing together.

**-XXX-**


	11. Chapter 11

**-XXX-**

"I am so pleased everything managed to work out," Maris said as Sarah filled out her final time sheet. She was twirling a lock of her short blue-black hair around one finger, standing before the register. It was twenty minutes to close and the shop was empty. Sarah was glad that her last day had been a slower one – she had gotten an opportunity to truly say goodbye to the place. Though she'd only worked at the bookshop for a few months, it had become a second home of sorts. She would miss it.

"Yeah, I'm happy they let me work our last shift together. Chris was not happy that I was turning in my notice."

"Oh, I didn't mean that, but yeah, I am glad we got to finish together too." Maris's red fingernails drummed against the counter. She seemed very energized, which was odd considering what a long day it had been. Time moved slower when there were no customers.

The elder girl continued, turning to lean against the counter so she could face her soon-to-be-former coworker. "No, I meant between you and your boy. I'm glad you resolved your differences."

Sarah didn't look up from the computer screen. "Aw, thanks," she said absently, double-checking her hours entry. "Yeah, it took some time, but I'm thankful he was patient. I needed time to sort somethings out."

"Jareth is the one who should be thankful." Maris grinned. "You're quite the catch, Sarah Williams."

Sarah smiled back. "Thanks."

"Credit where credit is due, though, I think we can all agree I definitely played a part."

Logging off the desktop, Sarah laughed as she shrugged on her coat, which had been hanging off of the back of the chair. The October temperatures were finally beginning to reach an autumnal-level and it was chilly after sundown. "Oh really? What did you do, Maris?"

"I mean, gosh, countless things. For starters, convincing the two of you that you were suffering some kind of curse that forced you into spending time together."

Sarah paused in the midst of zipping. She turned slowly on her heels to face Maris. "Excuse me?"

The plastic blue frames of Maris's glasses were for once out-shone by the girl's eyes, which were abnormally bright. Almost a though light was being emitted directly from them.

"Jareth was never going to make a move," she said simply. "He was resigned to watching in his crystal and sighing over you. It was getting old – and so were you. Human lives are so very brief. I decided that it was now or never. So a few spectral visions here, a few there." She shook her black bob, pursing her red lips in a smile. "It didn't take too much to coax him into the thought that his decision to try to go cold turkey from seeing you might be the cause."

"Who are you?" Sarah whispered.

"She's a manipulative sneak, that's who," a voice from the door said.

Sarah jumped. The bell that typically rang when customers entered had failed to sound, though when she saw who had graced their threshold it made sense why. Jareth, in a leather jacket and jeans, with his hair shorn to just above his ears, leaned against the frame, arms crossed. He looked less-than-pleased.

"Apologies," Maris said gravely. "But something had to be done. If we had waited much longer Sarah would have been in a much less pivotal point in her short life."

"Don't say 'we' you lying pile of bricks," the Goblin King fumed. "I had nothing to do with this scheme. If I had known that you were meddling in our lives –"

"You would have stopped me. But you ought to be thanking me."

"Can someone," Sarah said loudly. "Please explain what is going on?"

Jareth stalked forward, gesturing angrily to the petite young woman who was currently lounging against the shop's front counter, looking quite pleased with herself.

"Do you recall, Sarah, when I mentioned that my Labyrinth had been occupied with something in the Above?" He stood beside her, drawing an arm around her waist.

She searched her memory. "Yes," she said slowly. "It's why you came to that woods, that day."

Jareth gave her a short smile, approving. "And now we've found what was keeping her oh-so-busy. She was working part-time as a manager of an independent bookshop."

"Assistant manager," Maris corrected, pushing her glasses up. "And that wasn't really my true focus. But it was fun."

Sarah blinked once, twice, three times at Maris before the connection was made. Maris smile patiently, indulging the other woman's shock.

"You!" Sarah finally managed.

"I knew she was a smart one, my lord." There was only a little sarcasm in her tone. "Pretty, smart, and headstrong. Just what we need. What a strong monarchy we shall endure."

Jareth's flared nostrils were enough of an indication to show that despite her flattery, he was far from pleased. "I have spent a month driving myself mad trying to determine where you have been. All this time, here, in a secondhand bookshop, whispering who knows what into her ear. You have a lot to answer for."

The Labyrinth shrugged, propping her slim elbows on the counter to grin at her master. "It cannot have been all bad, can it? You've got your girl, I have an incoming queen, and everyone is happy."

The King looked as though he were about to throttle her. Sarah shifted against his increased grip.

"I did not want any meddling," he said between his teeth. "I wanted Sarah to come to a decision free of manipulation."

Sarah interjected. "You did meddle," she started, eyeing her coworker as she placed a hand on Jareth's chest. "Without a doubt, you were here with an agenda. But if you hadn't, I don't know if we would be here today. And that would have been a shame. So even though I am with Jareth on being less-than-pleased regarding this development, I am grateful that you've given us this opportunity."

She looked up at the Goblin King. He had a peculiar expression on his face that she could not interpret.

"Well said," he allowed quietly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Behind them, Maris beamed.

-XXX-

Her going away brunch had been entirely Karen's idea. Sarah would have preferred a simple goodbye before the car, and Jareth would have preferred to wipe everyone's memory of her altogether and whisk her away. Karen wanted one last family meal together – and an opportunity to evaluate her step-daughter's new partner, this strange Jared who was taking her states away.

When Sarah had told her parents that she and Jared had reconnected and that she was now moving to live with him across the country, they had been more than shocked. Her father had grown ashen and her stepmother had sputtered for several moments. The prospect of telling them had made her so nervous. Once they had recovered, both had so many questions. Some had been predictable – "When did this happen?" and "Are you sure?" and "Why?" – and others threw her off her game. When Karen asked, "What will we tell Toby?" Sarah nearly burst into tears.

It was not an easy decision, she told them. But she was moving nowhere here. There were more job prospects. More opportunity.

Did she love him?

At this Sarah swallowed. "Yes, I think so."

Enough to move so far away?

It came stronger this time. "Yes."

They still were uncertain and unhappy. But she was an adult. It was unlike the Williams to prevent Sarah from doing anything once she'd set her mind to it. So her father brought home moving boxes one night after work. Karen let her take Toby out for ice cream to break the news. And she began to go through the kitchen, coming up with rarely-used pie tins and spatulas Sarah could use in her new home.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to bring that much with me," her stepdaughter said as she reluctantly carried a box of odds and ends out to the garage. "I was kind of hoping to pack light."

"Nonsense. No need to buy all that when we have some here."

Despite the annoyance, Sarah knew it was Karen's way of trying to be supportive. She was just as worried as Mr. Williams. At night when she was in bed, staring at the ceiling, she could hear their low voices from down the hall.

Sarah herself was more than a little fearful. The Underground didn't exactly have wifi. Jareth reassured her that she could visit whenever she wished. They would figure out how to mail letters, find a way to video chat, all of that. Still, the prospect of missing things was heavy upon her.

The morning eventually came. Jareth showed up early, "having taken a red-eye" to be there to drive out to the coast with her. He wore a slim-fitting beige sweater and a smug smile when she'd answered the door. He still looked unearthly, despite his attempts at dressing more mundanely. With a small sigh, she accepted his kiss. Given her impending absence, they'd rarely seen one another, with Sarah spending most of the time with her family. Despite the good reason for the distance, she had missed him more than she'd anticipated

"Is that Jared?" Karen called from upstairs.

"Yes," Sarah replied. In a lower voice, she turned back to the Goblin King. "They're really anxious. You need to be your charming charismatic self times a thousand. But not so charming and charismatic that you come off as like, you know. Fake."

His brows rose in a "well I never" protest, but he was soon cut off by the sight of Toby at the top of the stairs. The eight-year-old appeared somewhat sullen, eyes downcast.

"Hello, Toby," the king ventured warmly. "I don't know if you remember me –"

The child came to wrap a small arm around his sister's waist, glowering from slightly behind Sarah. She winced, ruffling his hair. "This is Jared. He's excited to meet you."

Toby did not answer. He'd been fairly unhappy at the prospect of Sarah moving out of their parent's home. A move across the country had set him off in an extremely unpleasant mood. Sarah couldn't seem to talk to him. As soon as she'd told him, he'd withdrawn, choosing to avoid her as much as he could. It was very distressing as their limited time left together ticked away. She had hoped that maybe these last few hours of time leading up to her departure would see her younger brother shedding his anger. But it appeared Toby remained unhappy.

"I've heard you have quite an interest in soccer, Toby."

The child was impassive.

Jareth held back a sound of frustration. He removed from his pocket a round disc. "I thought you might like this. It's from –"

"Chelsea," Toby piped up suddenly, eyes glued onto the blue and white button emblazoned with a lion.

"Yes," Jareth said, pleased.

The boy slid his gaze up to the Goblin King, still not touching the object offered to him. "Is that where you're from? You don't sound like you're from here."

"Ah, not quite." Jareth caught Sarah's eyes. She was in between laughter and rolling her eyes. "But I have friends who live there."

After another moment of scrutiny, Toby accepted the button with a great seriousness.

"You can put that on your backpack," Sarah said helpfully as they moved away from the door. "With the one you got from the arcade last week."

He didn't answer. She sighed, turning to Jareth. Before she could reassure him her father appeared with a box in his arms, several books perilously balanced on top. She moved to grab the books before they fell.

"Dad, we could have helped you with that," she said, exasperated. "I thought we were waiting to take the boxes down after brunch."

"I was headed downstairs anyways," he said in a very dad-like way. "Besides, it was hardly anything." He noticed Jareth. "Hello! You're early!"

"He's on time," his daughter said before Jareth could answer. "You and everyone else here are running late. Dad, you remember Jareth."

If her father noticed her mispronunciation, he did not indicate it. He struggled to juggle the box so he could offer a hand and grinned when Jareth issued a strong shake. Sarah had to resist cursing quietly to herself for the name slip.

"Karen will be ready with food soon," Mr. Williams said as he continued on to the garage, where Sarah's worldly possessions were being piled up. "Toby, why don't you go see if your mother needs any help?"

Toby rolled his eyes but complied. He trailed his father out.

When they were both gone Sarah sagged against the frame of the living room door. Her head was already aching. Thankfully the name mistake was small and easy to overlook. Stressful, nonetheless. Toby's reaction had also been an issue, albeit an anticipated one. Sarah's guilt increased anytime she thought of her little brother's disappointment. She had just come home, finally, after four years away. Now she was leaving for good…

Jareth gently reached for her hand. "Well, that was a bit of a gauntlet."

"You haven't seen Karen yet," she murmured darkly.

As if summoned her stepmother appeared at the top of the stairs. In a sunny yellow blouse and her hair perfectly in place, Karen was clearly trying to make a good impression as a warm and loving hostess. Sarah was touched. Karen was very particular about appearance anyways, but today she'd gone so far as to break out her anniversary pearl set, something she wore only on special occasions. The dull glint made Sarah feel oddly sentimental.

"Jared," she said, folding her hands as she walked down the stairs. "It is so good to see you. Did you have a safe flight?"

"Very safe," he assured her, smiling. "Thank you for asking. And, thank you for hosting me. I am glad to have the opportunity to spend time with your family before we leave."

"Of course." Her bright blue eyes flickered across his face. Sarah could see her calculating. Her gaze brushed over their joined hand. She felt Jareth squeeze briefly.

Interrupting the awkward silence, Sarah asked, "Karen, did you need any help in the kitchen?"

She brightened. "Actually dear, if you wouldn't mind, I could use some help with the salad. Toby," She turned back to her son, who was lingering on the landing. "Could you be a dear and set the table?"

He nodded and followed her into the kitchen.

That left Jareth awkwardly lingering in the parlor. He was just about to sit and twiddle his thumbs when Mr. Williams returned from the garage.

"Karen," he called up the stairs.

"I believe she is in the kitchen."

Sarah's father blinked at him owlishly. "Already? Well, I guess that means there is nothing for us to do but wait."

He joined the fae, choosing a seat on the overstuffed couch that directly overlooked the television. Wasting no time, he picked the remote and adjust to the proper channel, one where small figures ran across a striped field. Jareth decided that he ought to be thankful that Mr. Williams was not inclined to talk. He hardly knew what to say.

"This is your home team?" he finally ventured when Mr. Williams let out a cheer.

Mr. Williams seemed surprised. "The Rams? No, but they're killing the Raiders. Enemy of my enemy, right?"

"Ah, yes."

They lapsed into silence again. It was broken a few moments later by Toby slinking into the room to sit next to his father sullenly. Mr. Williams clapped him on the shoulder. "Toby here is more of a Cowboys fan himself."

"Oh," Jareth said politely.

"Though he prefers soccer. Just as well," Mr. Williams said fondly. "His mother is entirely against him playing football. She used to be a nurse, you know. Saw way too many head injuries come out of football."

"Yes, I can imagine." He couldn't imagine, because he could barely fathom what exactly football was. It seemed, based on the tiny clock at the bottom of the screen, that one premise of the game was the stopping of time. That, at least, was familiar to him.

Mercifully, Sarah appeared. "Food is ready," she said by way of greeting. Jareth moved out of the chair with what was likely a rude quickness. She raised an eyebrow.

"It smells delicious."

They followed her into the adjoining dining room. Sarah felt a pang when she sat, knowing that it would be a long time before she would be back here, amid Karen's blue and white patterned China and the French Country inspired décor. She would never again eat Karen's dry quiche or listen to Toby give a play-by-play of his school day. All of this had been apparent when she agreed to join Jareth in the Underground. Now it just felt more real.

She swallowed as the bowl of salad was passed to her. From across the table, Jareth caught her eye. His brow furrowed with concern. She schooled her expression to something closer to happiness.

Her father was asking Jareth about his work. In between bites of quiche he gave engaged but dull answers about his faux job in some far-flung government office. It was appropriately boring – no one had any questions.

"This was all delicious," he declared after the strawberry shortcake had been cleared from the plate. "Thank you for hosting me."

"Well," Mr. Williams said with a satisfied stretch. "I suppose that means we better load up the car."

His daughter rolled her eyes. "You suddenly seem eager to rid yourself of me."

Standing, her father squeezed her shoulder. "Never."

With that Karen and Toby set about clearing the table. Sarah took moving the remaining boxes in her room to the garage while her father loaded the car.

She lingered before she moved the final box, scanning the grass patterned wallpaper, the orange canopy, the window seat. She'd grown up in this room. It had seen her through her parent's divorce, her father's remarriage, a new brother, college, and her first ventures into adulthood. Karen would likely remove the dated wallpaper and turn it into a guest room, maybe use a corner for her sewing table. It would never again be Sarah's room. Not truly.

When she trailed downstairs for the last time, feeling a little lightheaded, Jareth was waiting for her at the bottom. His smile was subdued. It was easy to tell that he was excited when she squeezed his hand and felt his fingers drum against her palm. But he was holding back – for her. This wasn't easy.

Karen called from the kitchen. "Your father is nearly finished, Sarah, do you want to bring him one last thing?"

She squeezed her beloved hand again and moved past him into the kitchen.

Karen held out a vinyl bag, boxy and covered in holographic glitter. Sarah wanted to both laugh and cry. It was her lunch box. Her childhood lunch box, the one she lugged to school every day until 9th grade when she decided bringing a lunch wasn't "cool" anymore.

"I can't believe you still have this."

"It's going to be a long drive." Karen's voice was warm, though it wavered. "I packed your favorite. And your dad put a cooler in the front full of Diet Coke."

At this Sarah did laugh. She wrapped Karen in a hug.

"Oh," her stepmother whispered. "I want only the best for you."

Her stepdaughter pulled back, more than a little teary-eyed. "I know. And I promise this is – he is – the best."

Karen patted her shoulder, still in the circle of Sarah's arms. Her eyes were also red-rimmed. "You're an adult now. You get to make these choices, you need to trust yourself. Oh, but I wish it wasn't so far…"

"I'll call. And there is video chat now. And I'll be here. Every Christmas," she reminded her.

"Ladies –" Her father stood in the threshold between the garage and kitchen. "We're packed up," he announced.

Toby and Jareth were already outside, next to her car, which was sagging with the weight of her belongings. There was a gap of space between them that told Sarah her little brother was still radiating upset energy. She knelt to her brother's level.

"Hey."

He was studiously avoiding eye contact. She picked up his small hands.

"I will call you every day. And I will be here every Christmas. In a few months, when we are settled, you can come visit me. You can take a plane all by yourself. Mom and Dad promised."

Toby wouldn't budge. She sighed and ruffled his blonde mop. "Okay. I love you."

Karen's red-rimmed eyes were fully weeping now. She hugged Sarah fiercely. Her father gave an equally strong embrace, though his tears were subdued.

"You call if you have any trouble," he warned.

Her parents gave Jareth hugs too, though they were far less emotional. They reminded Jareth to watch out for their Sarah. He solemnly vowed to do so, while in the background Sarah rolled her eyes. But she let them have this.

They both got into their cars. Jareth would lead the way until they were out of town and it was safe to magic them Underground. Sarah had been concerned with this plan, wondering what she would do with her car in the Labyrinth. Jareth assured her it would have a happy home in the stables. With the horses.

She watched her family in her rearview mirror until she turned a corner and they were gone. Then it was just her, the road, and everything up ahead.

**-XXX-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point in my life I moved very far from my family to live with the person I was dating, in a place where I knew no one else. Those are the feelings I was channeling in this last bit - hopeful, scared, but ready. 
> 
> Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. Please consider leaving a comment!


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